The Painted Grey
by Zalgroth
Summary: When everything you once cared about is dead, what is left to fight for? When John Shepard is reassigned to the Normandy, he is set onto the greatest adventure in his life, facing adversity, an unconquerable darkness, and the fear of losing everything he cherishes. Follow Shepard on his tale of hardship, bravery, and perhaps even love. /Warning: Does not follow canon!/
1. Broken Dreams

**:: Chapter One :: **Broken Dreams** ::**

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_Here's to love, the sickness,_

_The great martyr of the soul._

_Here's to life, the vice,_

_The great herald of misery._

_In this cup, spiritus frumenti,_

_For this is the nectar of the spirit._

_Quench the thirst, drown the sorrow,_

_And forget about the cold yesterdays…_

_-Agalloch-_

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"Are you sure about this, Anderson?"

"Absolutely. I need someone with his kind of track record to even have a chance at putting a human in the Spectres."

Admiral Hackett shook his head slowly. "I know what he did on Elysium makes him a hero, but he's not the same man that he was five years ago."

"I know Akuze was traumatic, but it's what makes Shepard different. He's experienced loss first hand, he knows what there is to lose if he doesn't fight."

"A man with nothing to lose isn't much of an asset."

Anderson bit his lip and sighed. Hackett had a point. "Then we'll have to find something for him worth treasuring."

"If you can pull that off, do you think it'll work?"

"Just look at his recent performance reports," Anderson stated confidently, "in his last mission, he neutralized seventeen of the twenty-six hostile pirates that were bunked down on Trebin."

"Look more carefully." Hackett lifted up a datapad from atop his desk, tapping on the screen a few times before handing it over to Anderson. "Four killed from gunshot wounds. Seven stabbed in various vital organs. The remaining six were tied to each other, and their throats were slit one at a time. We both know he took it too far."

Anderson slowly nodded his head as he took in the information. Hackett continued on. "A man with those kinds of brutal impulses shouldn't have access to the kind of power that Spectres have. We both know that Spectres are already loose cannons… we can't have a murderer with government backing."

Anderson was silent for a few moments. "I know there's some good in him."

"And how would you know that?" asked Hackett, leaning back in his chair.

"I knew his Father, once."

"Father? The one that died back on Mindoir?"

Anderson slowly shook his head. "No. His real father… was off the records. Shepard's mother died in childbirth, and his father couldn't take care of him alone. He was a military man."

"So who do we have listed as Shepard's parents?"

"Shepard's aunt and uncle. I'm sure they would have told him that they weren't his real parents at some point, if they hadn't been attacked."

Anderson sighed. "His father was a good man. He was always ready to help, stopping pirates, providing refugee relief… whatever it took. Shepard has to have some of that in him."

Hackett was silent for a while. Eventually, he sighed, and leaned forward once more. "I'll authorize the transfer. Take good care of him, Captain."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

_Shepard stood in the middle of an open field of lush, green grass, underneath the massive expanse of blue skies. Small clouds dotted the skies, lazily floating along. In the distance, Shepard could hear the sound of running water. Like a small creek. As he struggled to catch the sound, it began to grow louder. And louder. And louder still, until the sound of a gentle creek became a river, a hurricane, the noise growing louder and louder about him. Shepard put his hands to his ears, trying to drown out the deafening noise, falling to his knees on the grass. And then, the noise stopped. All was calm once more. Blood began to well up from the ground. The grass was melting, dissolving away in the tide of sticky, red blood that suddenly began to erupt from inch of the ground. Before long, the blood was up to Shepard's knees, then up to his chest, rising until he was submerged. He tried to swim to the surface, paddling as desperately as he could, but his armor was weighing him down. Keeping him from breaking free. His vision began to swim, the dark red of blood slowly turning black._

_"You abandoned us," came a voice from everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. "You left us to die!"_

_The screeching voice was like the grating of a piece of steel against concrete, scraping against Shepard's very soul. "A… Andrew?" Shepard asked, reaching out, recognizing the undertones behind the demonic howl. His vision began to clear, and before him was a control room, dimly lit with a man wearing a suit of black combat armor facing away from him. "Andrew Michaels. Engineering tech." Shepard walked towards him, reaching towards his friend, grabbing him on the shoulders. The man turned around, revealing his broken and torn face. His eyes had been gouged out, leaving empty, dead holes in his face, blood streaming down his cheeks, dripping towards the floor. His face had been sliced down the right side, leaving the left half of his jaw hanging freely. "You did this to us!" shouted the monstrous creature._

_It slowly reached for Shepard, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. The creature reached for a worn, notched knife at its hip and smiled venomously as it slowly sunk the blade into Shepard's chest. Shepard couldn't move, let alone breathe or speak, and merely watched as he watched the creature carved his heart out, pulling the still beating organ out of his chest. _

_"Now you will die too!"_

Shepard jumped as he woke, nearly slamming his head into the low ceiling above which his small bed was located in. Shepard reached for his chest, feeling his heart still beating within, slowly calming down as he took a few deep breaths. Shepard leaned back, falling back into his bed. It had been like this almost every night. The accusing eyes of his former friends, tormenting him for his cowardice, punishing him for his weakness.

Shepard rolled off the side of his bed, and stood up as best he could in the cramped quarters. He stepped out the small room into a larger hallway, the main hall of the SSV Edmonton, the ship which he called home. Or rather, the ship that he slept in. He hadn't been able to find enough reasons to call the dingy piece of metal an actual home. In the few months which he had been stationed on the Edmonton, he still hadn't come to know any of the other crewmembers with any familiarity. He was there to shoot and kill. Nothing more.

As he walked towards the mess hall, prepared to pick up another tasteless dish of some rehydrated rations of some sort, he saw the Captain, a somewhat stubby man by the name of Captain Carlson, beckoning to him from inside of his private chambers.

Shepard gave the man a curt nod, and quickly followed him in. "Yes, sir?" Shepard asked, as Carlson closed the door behind them. "Did you need me for something?"

"Well, Lieutenant Shepard," the man said, somewhat stressing his rank. "I've gotten a notification from Admiral Hackett requesting your transfer to the SSV Normandy under Captain Anderson's command." Carlson looked at Shepard inquisitively, wondering if the man had arranged a transfer behind his back.

"Why?" asked Shepard, blinking a few times in confusion. He hadn't done anything spectacular in quite a few years—and nobody had requested him before. Had he done something wrong? His mind shot back to those pirates back on Trebin.

It was one of the few times he had lost his composure in his military career. It was supposed to just be a reconnaissance mission, but when he saw the armor that they wore, the same kind that he so vividly remembered from Akuze... pure rage had filled his veins, overthrowing any logical thought or reasoning.

But even watching the men screaming in their last moments hadn't brought him any satisfaction. Plunging his knife into their chests hadn't dispelled any of his demons. And now he had their blood on his hands.

But what did it even matter? He had the blood of hundreds on his hands, slain by the so called "Hero of Elysium". But no war title would protect your closest friends from your own damned cowardice, and no ribbon would bring them back from their graves.

"I wouldn't have the damnedest idea of what they'd want with you, Shepard." Carlson shook his head. "Well, if you want to transfer, I'll can authorize right here, right now."

Shepard hesitated a moment. He had no reason to stay on the Edmonton, but a transfer was still a fairly big deal. He would have to gather up his meager collection of belongings, arrange transport, spend the next year correcting old records, and…

To hell with it. Why not?

"Do it." Shepard nodded his head once more, as if to indicate its finality, and watched as Carlson quickly typed a few pieces of information into his terminal, before he turned around and nodded to Shepard. "Well, it was good having you here. They'll send a shuttle over here to pick you up in the next three hours."

_Three hours?_ That was certainly shorter than he was accustomed to. Apparently, they wanted him quickly, if not badly. Shepard walked out of Carlson's room without another word, and quickly jogged over to his locker in the adjacent armory. He quickly punched in the combination, and slid open the metal door. He grabbed his pistol and sniper rifle, locking them into place at his side and back respectively. He quickly picked up a few small medi-gel packets, and stuffed them into the pockets in his uniform. He slowly reached for the shotgun still inside of the locker, silently admiring it as he always had. It was an old shotgun, a Hydra, but it had always done him well. There were a series of small notches on the side of it, marks for each life he had taken. He slowly ran a hand down the side of the barrel. He rolled the gun over, running his hand over another set of notches. _One for each life that was taken from me._

He locked the shotgun into place on his back as well, slamming the locker shut. Shepard stood still for a moment, realizing that he still had a few hours to wait before they would be picking him up. A small bit of disappointment fired through Shepard's mind, but he quickly brushed it aside. A small smile began to form on his face as he realized something.

He was excited.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"And be safe, ok?" Shala'Raan patted Tali on the shoulder, trying to assuage Tali's growing nervousness. "Everybody goes on their pilgrimage at some point. We've all done it—and we all came out fine."

Tali took a deep breath. "Thank you, Auntie. I just hope that I can find something useful."

"I'm sure you will. The galaxy is a big place, with untold treasures just waiting to be found."

Tali nodded silently. After a few moments, she asked "Is father going to say goodbye?"

Raan grimaced underneath her mask, and slowly shook her head. "He's preoccupied with other important business." She saw Tali's shoulders slump slightly, though by now, Raan knew that Tali's hopes would never come to fruition. Perhaps getting away from the fleet would be good for her. She could meet new people, see new worlds. It _would_be good for her.

Raan reached forward with outstretched arms, and hugged Tali as she saw the glowing light, indicating that Tali's shuttle was ready. "Remember, always keep your shields and armor ready. The galaxy isn't… accepting of quarians. And you have your shotgun."

Tali nodded once more. She turned around, and headed into the now open shuttle, looking back at Shala'Raan once more before she shut the door.

"And… tell father I said goodbye."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Damnit, Vakarian! Stand down!" Captain Karrok glared at Garrus, the two men holding their hateful stare for a few moments, until Garrus turned his back on the man.

"What the hell do you mean, we can't bring him in?"

"I mean exactly what I said," said Karrok, matter-of-factly. "If you put a hand on Markus, C-Sec will be neck-deep in shit for the next six months."

Garrus shook his head. "So you're telling me we just let the damned murderer walk?"

Karrok said nothing. He looked at Garrus' back for a few moments before he turned around as well. He now spoke in what was almost a whisper.

"Do you think I _like_to let criminals go, Vakarian? Do you think I don't want to carve their damn hearts out for what they've done?"

"So why the hell don't you? How many more people is Markus going to kill if we don't do anything about it?"

"Too many." Karrok sat down in his desk. "Too damn many."

"Then I'm going to put a bullet in his brain." Garrus began to walk away before Karrok stood up, slamming his hands down on his desk.

"If you do so much as touch him, I will personally drag your ass back here and lock you up for the next three years. Don't make me do it."

Garrus stopped for a moment in the doorway. He lowered his head and silently muttered to himself, mourning the lives that he knew would be lost in the next few days. "Damnit."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stood in the airlock of the Edmonton, waiting as the decontamination cycle scanned the small room, equalizing pressure between the two vessels, hissing as it did so. Shepard rolled his shoulders, now weighed down with his forty-kilo suit of combat armor. It was standard Alliance armor, just a simple set of interlocking metal plates that would deflect mass accelerator rounds with some degree of efficiency, as long as the rounds weren't too powerful. The deflecting nature of the armor had a terrible habit of attracting long, deep gouges from bullets sliding across the sides of the large, silvery plates. But it was still better than dying.

Shepard ran a finger across the polished N7 logo on his chest. He remembered how proud he had been when he had first received his logo, so many years ago. Now he felt nothing—it was just another meaningless commendation.

He realized that the decontamination cycle had completed some time ago, and he reached for the hologram on the door. As soon as the door slid open, a dark skinned man wearing a formal military uniform—most likely Captain Anderson, based on the rank emblazoned on his left shoulder—stepped forward. Two other men stood at his side, dressed in combat garb, though he mostly ignored them.

"Second Lieutenant Jonathan Shepard." The man's voice belied his age. Shepard had guessed him to be in his early thirties based on appearances, but something about his voice made Shepard rethink his guess. He felt a deep wisdom, an understanding within. He felt loss—those same subtle undertones of sorrow which Shepard even noticed within his own voice.

"Yes sir," Shepard replied. "Reporting in from the SSV Edmonton under the command of Captain Carlson."

"Welcome to the Normandy, kid." Shepard blinked at the sudden informality. "It's not quite the same as your average spacecraft—I'm sure it's an upgrade from your last station."

There was a short pause, as Anderson seemingly waited for some kind of reply. When Shepard was not forthcoming, he continued. "The armory is located downstairs, where you can store your equipment," he said, gesturing to the Shepard's weapons. "Your sleeper pod will be located in the room just adjacent to that. You can ask a crewmember for specific directions if you need them."

"A sleeper pod?" Shepard couldn't help but ask.

"Yes. On a vessel like this, space is at a premium—so we've installed state of the art sleeper pods. Don't worry, you'll get used to them." A small smile appeared on Anderson's face. "If there are no other questions, feel free to make yourself at home." He began to turn away, when Shepard interrupted him.

"Sir?" Anderson turned back around, and waited as Shepard took a deep breath. "What do you want with me?"

"I want you," Anderson answered simply. He spun on his heel once more, and left the airlock, walking to what he presumed was the cockpit. Shepard looked around him, interested to see what this "upgrade" might entail. He stepped into the main flight deck—a long hallway with terminals stationed all along the sides. He could see other crewmembers at some of the terminals, some managing data and other information, and a few playing what looked to be some variant of poker.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Shepard turned around to see the other young man looking at him. "Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, sir. I had friends on Elysium… non-combatants. They told me about what you did."

"What weapons training do you have?" Shepard asked, seemingly ignoring Kaidan's compliment.

"Sir?" Kaidan asked, somewhat confused.

"What weapons training do you have? I need to know if I can count on your in a firefight. Or are you just holding a gun for something to do?" There was a bit of unintended snark in Shepard's voice. He hadn't intended to be cruel, but a bit of bitterness came through.

"Um, I am most proficient with handguns, though I have some training with assault rifles as well."

Shepard scoffed, another unintentional bit of cruelty that came through, despite not really consciously being upset or disappointed with the man. Kaidan continued regardless.

"I am also an L2 biotic. I've received extensive biotic training which allows me to effectively control the battlefield by incapacitating enemies."

Shepard raised his eyebrows at the statement. _A biotic?_Shepard had never met a biotic before—as far as he knew, human biotics were myths. How did they say that biotics were formed… Eezo exposure? It was something like that. He had never seen a biotic in action, but it would certainly be… interesting.

Shepard merely gave Kaidan a curt nod. "Good." He walked past the man, heading towards a more open part of the ship, hoping that he was travelling in the right direction.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Kaidan sighed as the man walked away from him. _One more illusion shattered._He had met many "heroes" before. And not yet had a single one lived up to his expectations. The titan of a man he had heard of, the Hero of Elysium, who had held off hundreds of batarians from murdering the defenseless colonists, was a withdrawn, snappy, crass, bitter man, as far as he could tell. He hoped that Shepard would loosen up in the days to come.

Kaidan turned around and headed the opposite direction, walking into the cockpit. Anderson sat in the copilot's chair, while Joker was leaned back in his seat, waiting for the Edmonton to acknowledge the transfer and withdraw their docking bay. Kaidan walked up behind Joker, leaning on his seat.

"So… Shepard?" asked Kaidan, still somewhat disappointed with his initial meeting.

"Yes," replied Anderson. "His kind of experience is what we need around here—especially if that Spectre representative is coming around here soon."

"Are you sure that he's… an appropriate candidate?" Kaidan asked, somewhat daunted by the idea of someone like Shepard making it into the Spectres.

Joker looked up at Kaidan. "What, did he bite you in the ass already?"

"No… well, kind of." Kaidan said, somewhat submissively. "I guess he just isn't quite what I expected from the War Hero of Elysium."

"He's still a good soldier," Anderson said, folding his hands together on his lap.

"But a Spectre has to be more than just a good soldier. He need to be able to provide help when people need it, he needs to be able to work in a team. He needs to be like you, Anderson."

Anderson blinked a few times at the subtle compliment. "I'm sure he'll settle in soon."

Kaidan sighed. "If you really think so. I've met people like him before… and they haven't changed much." He was thinking about some criminals that he had brought into custody before. Serial murderers, rapists, pirates—the scum of the galaxy, cruel people who would rather watch you suffer than let you die mercifully. He realized he had unintentionally compared Shepard to a rapist when he shook his head once more, realizing he was being unfair. "I hope you're right, Captain."

* * *

Welcome to the first step in my tale. Be warned; I do not intend to follow canon, though I will try my best to exist within the boundaries of already established facts.

Have any questions, comments, burning anger, or pet peeves about my writing?

Leave a comment, send me a private message, or email me at evangj .


	2. Bloodstains

**:: Chapter Two :: **Bloodstains **::**

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_These drops of blood won't wash away your sins,_

_I buried you deep to forget the pain._

_But every night I see you through sleep,_

_Another cold night, neverending hell._

_-Swallow the Sun-_

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"How the hell…"

Shepard examined the sleeper pod somewhat cautiously. He had never seen anything like it before. Even on older ships—like the one he had just come from—typically the crew slept in beds. There was nothing wrong with beds, after all. Why this ship had to use "sleeper pods" was beyond his understanding.

The odd machine stood upright, a little over six and a half feet tall. It was cushioned on the back, with a mound near the top which was presumably the pillow, but Shepard wasn't quite sure how he was going to sleep while he was standing upright. There was a small control panel on the front with a few buttons, but to Shepard's dismay, there were no labels to be found. He pressed one of the larger red buttons, and he saw a faint light turn on inside of the pod. He pressed another, and a digital display activated, a clock which was likely the alarm. He set it to nine-hundred hours, and with that out of the way, grabbed on the handle, pulling the pod open. He stepped inside the cramped pod, which was obviously not intended to be used as Shepard was attempting—with a full suit of combat armor and a pistol holstered at his side. He tried to pull the door shut as best as he could, but it refused to close when his shoulder pads were holding the door open.

As Shepard was busy wiggling about inside of the metal pod, a hard knock jolted Shepard from his efforts. "How are you doing in there?"

"Just fine, Captain." Shepard could hear Anderson chuckling softly to himself from outside.

"I don't think anyone is going to hurt you around here, Shepard. You can take that armor off."

Shepard looked around the cramped pod, realizing the truth in the man's words. The damn pod certainly wasn't planning on agreeing with Shepard any time soon—at least not before he could find himself a hammer—and even then, he had other ways to protect himself.

"If anyone wants to hurt me, I sure hope they know I was top of my class in hand-to-hand combat." Shepard slowly opened the door, looking into Anderson's smirking face. The man was always standing tall, still wearing that same, formal suit, even in the late hours. It made him look strong, infallible. Someone he could count on.

Someone that Shepard used to be. Before he let down everyone that had counted on him.

"Something wrong?" Anderson's light-hearted smirk changed into a more concerned-looking frown. Shepard hadn't even realized that he had let his facial features slip so readily. He quickly recovering, pulling a smile from some depth within him, a façade to appease the Captain.

"No, sir. Everything is fine." Shepard nodded, attempting to back his words. He could tell that Anderson didn't quite buy it, but he wasn't pressing the issue.

"Come on. Let's get you to your locker, so you can change out that suit of armor." Anderson turned around and walked out of the room, heading towards the armory next door. Shepard followed him up to a large metal box that stood up to roughly his height, and a little bit skinnier than Shepard's fairly considerable girth.

"You can keep your armor and weapons here when you don't need them. Don't worry, the locker is secured. You can set up a passphrase once you're ready."

Shepard nodded silently, and pulled the shotgun off of his back. He tossed it into the bottom of the locker, along with his sniper rifle and his pistol. As he was began to unbuckle his shoulder guards, Anderson began to speak once more. "You'll probably want to hang on to your pistol. I know that nobody would want to tangle with a class seventeen infiltrator, or with that knife in your left boot, but I'm sure that you'd appreciate the extra firepower in an emergency."

Shepard blinked dumbly at Anderson. "How did you know I had a knife in my boot?"

The same smirk reappeared on Anderson's face. He chuckled slightly. "I might be old, Shepard, but I'm not as blind as you might think. I also noticed that your shotgun has eight notches on the bottom, and that your right shin-guard has been touched up so many times that it would probably shatter if I kicked it hard enough."

Shepard cringed slightly at the mention of the notches on the bottom of his shotgun, but he was now more careful to mask his thoughts with a slight smile. In an attempt to change the topic, he tried to ask some questions about his transfer. "Sir, earlier you said that you wanted _me_. Have I done anything in particular that made me appealing?"

"It's not what you've done, Shepard. It's what I know you'll do."

"What I'll do?"

"Yes. You're aware of the Council?"

"The representatives of each race which govern the galaxy?"

"Something like that. You know of the Spectres?"

Spectres. It was definitely a familiar term, but Shepard had no idea what it had meant. He rolled the word around his brain a few times before shaking his head.

"They're a little like police officers," Anderson began to explain, "Except they work for the Council. The Spectres carry out the Council's bidding, and in return, they're loosely controlled and have free reign over how they accomplish their objectives."

"But what does that have to do with me?" Shepard asked, despite already knowing what Anderson wanted.

"You're a Spectre. It's a common saying that Spectres aren't made, they're born. And you're a Spectre if I've ever seen one."

Shepard's heart sunk a little bit. _So that's what they wanted with me._They didn't want him because they thought he was a war hero, they didn't want him because he was a useful soldier. They wanted him to be a damned police officer.

"Born to kiss the Council's ass?" Shepard remarked sarcastically.

"I'm sure it's the other way around. As much as the Council likes to say that they command the Spectres, I'm sure most Spectres could wipe the floor with those politicians." Anderson shifted his weight between his feet, the first hint of uncertainty within the man. Shepard smiled slightly, happy to learn that even Anderson wasn't infallible. He continued on.

"A Spectre named Nihlus is coming aboard the Normandy in the next week. Maybe you'll see it's not so bad." Anderson sighed once more. "Good night, Shepard. Get some rest. I know you haven't slept for a while."

As Anderson turned and walked towards his private cabin, Shepard's thoughts roamed about his mind. Did he want to be a Spectre? Was he capable of being a Spectre?

And how in the hell was he going to sleep in a damned sleeper pod?

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Illium would be her first stop. The place where Tali'Zorah finally stepped free from the ships which she had lived on her whole life, the first step on the journey to becoming a woman. While the shuttle had been lazily meandering its way towards the docking station, Tali's eyes had been locked onto the majestic city. Towering buildings filled the ground, some reaching up even higher than Tali could see from inside of the shuttle. She could see hundreds, perhaps even thousands of similar shuttles darting to and fro, perhaps travelling between great celebrations and parties, or visiting friends and family or maybe other grand places she didn't even know about. The city was filled with endless possibilities, just waiting for her to discover!

She felt the shuttle jerk slightly as they lowered themselves into the docking bay. In a few moments, an indicator light blinked green, indicating that she was ready to depart. She stood up, looking towards the woman sitting in the pilot's seat.

"Thank you, Xai'Khan vas Rayya."

Xai'Khan nodded back at Tali. "Stay safe, little one."

Tali opened the door of the shuttle, air hissing in as the pressure equalized between the atmosphere and the spacecraft. She barely had stepped out before Xai'Khan had grabbed her by the shoulder.

"And your Father says 'Be Safe'. "

Tali solemnly nodded at the mention of her father, her thoughts now not of the great city in front of her, but rather of the fleet she had left behind.

_This is no time to be homesick. I've barely been away for a day._Tali stepped off of the shuttle once more, carrying a small bag of assorted belongings. Most of the important items that she needed were tucked away within pockets on her suit—a few hundred credits, medi-gel, antibiotics—stuff like that. She had been reluctant to leave behind a few other things, though. She brought along an extra veil, just in case she damaged her current one—she had a feeling that she wasn't going to be able to find another veil anywhere but the fleet—as well as a variety of weapons upgrades. She had also secretly tucked away a small holographic display of his father and mother, an image taken a few years ago. Before her mother had passed away. Before her Father had become even more distant.

Distracted by her thoughts, Tali barely noticed that she was walking into what appeared to be a trading floor of some sort. People bustled by her, most seemingly putting as much distance away from her as possible, except for one volus, who seemed to walk straight into Tali, knocking the light girl onto the ground.

Tali rapidly stood up, already trying to apologize for clumsily walking into the volus, but the creature was already walking away from her. She looked down to see her small bag spread out over the ground, small boxes containing upgrades thrown about, and the small holograph display lying on the ground a few feet away. Tali sighed, leaning down to pick up a thermal sink, when she felt another hand on her back, pushing her down onto the ground once more.

She turned around, looking for the offender, but nobody was to be found. She heard chuckles from within the crowd, people giving her strange glances, some laughing, some sneering.

"Look at the damn beggar."

"What is that thing, mommy?"

"Dirty quarians."

Ignoring the comments as best she could, Tali packed up her belongings into the bag once more, standing up and walking back the way that she had come from, keeping her head down. She hoped that the veil would cover up her mask. Maybe they would just think she was another human.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Stand back! I can't let you through here!"

Wrex merely stood in place, leaning on his shotgun as he watched the human quiver in fear. The man held an assault rifle up to Wrex, but he wasn't particularly terrified. He knew that he could take the man down before his shields lost any considerable power.

"You think you can stop me? My business has nothing to do with you. But, if you want to stand in the way…" Wrex swung his shotgun up from the ground, deftly catching it in his hands. He pulled on the trigger, holding it down, as a whirring sound began to grow louder. Wrex pointed the shotgun at the soldier—now wide-eyed and visibly shaking—as the barrel of his gun began to glow red-hot.

"I let this trigger go, you think you'll feel it before you die?"

"J-j-just go on a-ahead." The guard—who was so seemingly full of protests just a moment ago—was now standing to the side, clutching his rifle so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Wrex chuckled. He hadn't really wanted to kill the poor kid, but if he hadn't moved…

But onto business. A man named Victor Petrovnich lived somewhere on the small colony. It was up to Wrex to find him and end his life. It was quite simple, really. Based on the name, it was probably a man he was after—though he wasn't completely sure, since humans all picked such weak names. More likely than not, he wouldn't have any guards, and his shotgun could tear through shields and armor in an instant. Easy pickings.

Wrex stomped through the gates into a more open area, a plain filled with yellowed grass, and roads leading off each side to a variety of steel buildings. Now, where to begin?

Wrex pulled up his omni-tool, reopening the message with his instructions. The man was fairly rich, and so he would be away from the dingy shacks which now surrounded him. Perhaps up the hill, inside the large, ornate looking house? Worth a try. Wrex hooked his shotgun at his side, and walked up the path. He leaned against the door, listening for any noise from inside the house. He heard some small chattering coming from inside, and he readied his shotgun.

He quickly slammed the butt of the large gun onto the doorframe, pushing his weight into it. Despite how durable the metal door had looked, it quickly bent and buckled under Wrex's weight, flying off its hinges and into the room. A man and a woman sitting on some fancy couches stood up and screamed—the man in a such a way which seemed more feminine than even the woman's high pitched scream—and pointed his shotgun at the man.

"Victor?" Wrex asked, keeping his eyes on the man.

"No! No, no no! I'm not Victor! He lives across the street!"

Wrex gave the man a strange look. "And how do I know you're not lying?"

"I swear it! On my grave! On my mother's grave! On my wife!" The man wildly gestured towards the woman at his side.

It would be easier to kill them. Especially if the man he was looking for was standing in front of him, ready to send him on a tangent looking for someone else.

"Got any rope?"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard, are you listening?"

Shepard looked towards the young man, a kid named Jenkins. He had been babbling to Shepard for the last half an hour, almost non-stop.

"Yes, I was listening. We're going to land nearby the pirate's outpost, and then we'll infiltrate the facility and take down their leader."

"What do you think about this mission? Is this the kind of stuff that you used to always do?"

"Sort of."

"Are you like a spy or something? Like in the movies?"

Shepard shook his head, and tried to look away.

"Do you always use your shotgun, or—"

"Jenkins, calm down," Kaidan said. "You've been asking him questions for the last twenty minutes."

"Wow, has it been that long already? I guess time really flies when you've got a war hero to talk to!"

Kaidan shook his head silently, looking away from them. Shepard could tell that the man didn't really like him. _Good for him_, he thought.

"Touchdown in three minutes," Anderson said over the intercom. "Alpha team, you're in position in the Mako?"

"Yes sir," Kaidan said. "Prepared and armed for conflict."

"So, how exactly are we landing the Normandy without alerting everyone that we've come to visit?" Shepard asked, wondering if the Normandy's reputed stealth system was similar to the one he could project on his armor, making him invisible.

Kaidan turned towards Shepard with a smile on his face. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

Shepard didn't like the way he said that. Whenever people left something for "you to find out", it probably wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Prepare for release."

The great doors on the bottom of the Normandy slowly opened, as Shepard realized what he was supposed to find out when he saw the ground thousands of feet away though the Mako's external cameras. The vehicle slowly rolled forwards, the front wheels losing traction as they spun freely in the open air. Before long, the entire vehicle was falling, rapidly gaining speed. Inside, Shepard tried to hold in the rations that he had eaten just an hour earlier as he felt the vertigo of going weightless. He closed his eyes—in an attempt to think about something else, and also so he wouldn't have to meet Kaidan's eyes—which were no doubt looking at him.

As the thrusters on the bottom of the Mako activated, Shepard fell back into his seat, being squeezed down by the forces created by the rapid deceleration. The vehicle finally touched down, some of the force of the landing being absorbed by the rubbery tires and the suspension system underneath the cab, but the vehicle still managed to bounce around for another good thirty seconds before it finally rolled to a stop.

"Let me out." Shepard stood up from his seat, holding his stomach with one hand, and his mouth with the other. Kaidan smirked as he pressed a button on the inside of the cabin, causing the side of the Mako to slide open. Shepard nearly fell out of the vehicle, landing on his knees, vomiting onto the sand which covered the planet they landed on. Luckily for him, the atmosphere was breathable here—otherwise he would have had quite a mess inside of his helmet. Shepard wondered for a moment if that was intentional.

"What's the matter, Shepard? You look slightly green!" Kaidan said, as he leaned out the side of the Mako, smiling widely.

"Go to hell."

Kaidan promptly burst into laughter—enjoying the moment where he stood superior to Shepard—before Shepard stood up and shoved Kaidan back into his seat in the front of the Mako, still chuckling to himself.

"Alright, back to business," said Kaidan, wiping a tear from his eye. "The output is just a few clicks north of our current position. There's an opening on both the front and the rear, though it's likely that the front is much more heavily guarded. If we plan on infiltrating this place, we'll want to go in on foot so we don't alert the guards of our presence."

"Why don't we just storm in and blow the place to hell? I'm sure I could handle it." Shepard felt that this whole plan was a waste of time. There was no need to beat around the bush, from what he could tell.

"We're actually trying to accomplish something here, Shepard," Kaidan said, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. "If we just storm into the front door, Bartok will just fly off like he's done every time before."

"Fly off? You mean you can't shoot him down?"

"I know the Mako is a marvel of engineering," Kaidan said somewhat sarcastically. "Except the main gun isn't that accurate. Once a target gets out of the computer's range, you have to activate the manual targeting—which is like trying to hit a fly with a dart. It's not easy."

"I guess I'll take your word for it," Shepard said somewhat reluctantly. At least it would give him a chance to work out his stealth systems again. It had been a few months since he had needed it last. "So how are we going to deal with the guards out back?"

"You and Jenkins both have training with long-range ballistic rifles. We can leave the Mako behind a hill, and then take out the guards from afar before we sneak in the back door."

"Any other options?" Shepard asked, not really wanting to use his sniper rifle. He never really liked using it—it kept him away from the action. He wanted to be up close and personal.

"Well, Jenkins and I could provide overwatch while you cloak and take them down with your shotgun. You'd be in more danger, but it's possible we could take them down a little bit faster. That way, we can reduce the risk of them setting off an alarm."

Shepard's lips curved in a wicked grin. "Sounds good."

"We'll be there soon. Get ready to move out," Kaidan said, taking the Mako for a sharp turn in between a few steep hills. The heavy vehicle slid to a stop, the side door opening as it did so. "Let's do this."

Shepard jumped out the side of the vehicle before Jenkins could even finish unbuckling his restraints, and poked his head over the top of a sand dune which was their only protection from the group of pirates at this point. There was a small, flat looking building—something akin to an upside down food tray lying on the ground. The building bent upwards into an arch on one end, presumably the front end. Shepard couldn't quite make out how many soldiers were on the front side—since the building obscured most of his view—but he could see four soldiers dressed up in medium combat armor around the back door. Approaching them would be difficult.

There was very little cover in the flat, sandy area of this planet. He had his invisibility cloak, but it had its drawbacks. The longer he held the cloak active, the more it would drain his shields. After he had the cloak on for around fifteen seconds or so, his shields would start dropping in order to fuel the power-hungry cloaking module. Also, the module didn't mask noise, so cloaking and running headfirst into the group of pirates would more likely result in his eminent demise. Shepard smiled to himself. High risk, high reward. Just how he enjoyed it.

He activated his cloaking module, climbing over the sand dune. He ran as fast as he could towards the pirates while trying to avoid making any noise, pulling the shotgun from his back as he ran. It was simple, he would stand behind the first pirate, and drop his cloak. He would fire his shotgun at the second pirate, who would most likely die from the shot, and then use his knife to disable the first pirate. From there, it was a simple game of maneuvering. His shields would already be low from the cloaking module, so he would have to use the body of one of the pirates as cover, or he would have to hit them as fast as he could. But time was running out—he was just about there.

Shepard frowned to himself as he realized that his shields were considerably lower than he was expecting. That would complicate things. But on with the plan. He stepped behind the first pirate, completely undetected, when suddenly the second pirate—whom he was now levelling his shotgun towards—shouted "Cloaker behind you!"

Shepard fired his shotgun in panic, clipping the man in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground, but not quite killing him. He bent down and swung the knife from his boot swiftly, turning his attention to the pirate who was standing right in front of him. Shepard had done this a hundred times before. Stand up quickly, spin his body, and use the momentum to guide the blade through the chest plate and then twist to disable the victim.

What he didn't expect was the fist in his face.

A curled, metal gauntlet slammed into his face, most likely shattering his nose upon impact. Shepard fell to the ground, dropping his knife as he caught himself, but it was already too late. The man was already pulling a pistol out, and Shepard's shields weren't strong enough to deflect the bullet. Shepard closed his eyes, and braced for the impact.

Bang. The sound of a mass accelerator round being fired from the barrel of a gun, and the almost instantaneous sound of metal combat armor crunching, creaking in protest against the bullet before finally yielding.

But it wasn't his armor that shattered in retort to the mass accelerator rounds being fired into it. The pirate who stood above him suddenly fell to his knees, dead. _That damned kid,_Shepard thought, only now remembering that he wasn't alone. He quickly saw Jenkins down on one knee, aiming down the sights on his long rifle, now taking aim on another target. Shepard turned around to see another pirate fly off the ground, slamming into a wall behind him, before a few bullets came flying into him from Kaidan's pistol. Before Shepard could even stand up again, everything was calm once more.

Shepard took a deep breath—something he hadn't imagined being able to do again just a few moments ago—and stood up, turning around to face the beaming Jenkins and the slightly smirking Kaidan as the approached him. Apparently, the kid didn't realize the cruel nature that was death. He had killed two men today—and he was still smiling. Perhaps some innocence could go a long way.

"That was awesome!" Jenkins shouted. Kaidan gave him a light shove.

"Be quiet. There are still enemies over on the other side of the building."

"Well, if they haven't heard us yet…" Shepard said, trailing off slightly as a small smile came to his face.

"Well, maybe they're listening more closely now. We should get—" Kaidan was interrupted by a coughing sound coming from the ground. Shepard spun around to see the man who he had shot in the shoulder gasping for air. It was surprising that the man hadn't passed out from the pain yet.

"What should we do with him?" Kaidan asked, gesturing to the man lying on the ground.

"Kill him," Shepard said without hesitation. "He might trigger an alarm or something. Besides, he's of no use to us." Even as he spoke, he felt a pain in his stomach. He really didn't want to kill the man. No matter what his logic might have dictated to him, there was still something about killing a man who was lying on the ground, helpless, that didn't quite appeal to him. Perhaps it was for the best—the man would probably die from blood loss anyways. It was the merciful thing to do.

"But what if he has information or something useful?" Jenkins said, likely also repulsed by the idea of killing a man on the ground.

"I guess he has nothing that can help us, anyways," Kaidan said, waving a hand in the air. "Alright, Shepard. Your call. I'm going to go unlock the back door."

As Kaidan walked away, Shepard pulled his pistol from his holster. He quickly pointed it at the man, pulling the trigger as he closed his eyes. _Just another blood stain on my record._

Shepard walked up to Kaidan, sliding his pistol back into the holster. Kaidan looked back at the dead body, nodding silently. "Alright, I think I've got it."

The door to the bunker slid open, faint red light bleeding out. "I've got a map of the bunker on my omni-tool. Here, I'll send you a copy." Kaidan pressed a few buttons on the hologram on his wrist. After a few moments, Shepard's lit up as well, displaying a top down map of the area.

"The man we're looking for will likely be over here." A nearby room began to glow on Shepard's map. "Guards should be light inside, we just need to get in and take him out."

"Anything in particular I should know?"

"Just try not to get shot this time," Kaidan said with a smirk.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Any questions, comments, pet-peeves, suggestions, or anything else?

Leave a comment, write a review, or send me an email.

I'm currently trying to put a chapter out every three days. I'll do my best to keep to that schedule!


	3. Machinations

**:: Chapter Three :: **Machinations **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Hidden in white comes the winter,_

_Long reaching arms trip and hinder._

_Tie and bind and shred and kill,_

_For the winter in white is cold and still._

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

The last few days had been tough on Tali. The big city had been nothing short of a catastrophe for Tali, as far as she could tell. When Shala'Raan had told her that people looked down on quarians, she certainly hadn't expected the venomous hate that people were giving her for seemingly no reason. After her incident in one of the main trading squares, she spent most of her time in less populated regions of Illium, avoiding as much hustle and bustle as she could.

In an attempt to conserve what little food she had left from the Fleet, she had dropped into one of the restaurants that had a sign tacked onto its door proclaiming "Quarians Welcome!", purchasing a few tubes of sterilized nutrient paste of some sort. According to the turian who was working behind the counter, it wasn't the greatest tasting of dishes, but it would keep her alive and healthy. She was a little bit reluctant to partake of the strange paste—it was dark brown in color, and wiggled as she shook the container. Its consistency reminded her more of glue than any kind of food she had ever eaten before. But she wasn't going to be eating anything else, anytime soon.

She flipped the top of the sealed container around, a long, clear tube sticking out the end of the package. She inserted it into a small hole located near the mouth of her mask, which would seal around the straw preventing the outside atmosphere from leaking into the environment suit. She put the straw into her mouth, trying to suck the paste through.

Tali grimaced as the first bits of paste began to come through the straw, trying to swallow the paste without tasting it too much. It was flavorless for the most part, but it had a bitter aftertaste, and the strange texture certainly wasn't making it go down any easier. She closed her eyes, thinking of the food back on the Fleet. Even though they didn't have a planet to call their own, they were able to at least grow some fruits and vegetables on the liveships, and even the occasional kanniro, a winged creature that she learned was similar to a chicken. If only she now had something that she could actually chew, something she could savor instead of ignore. She quickly finished slurping up the remaining nutrient paste, extracting the straw from her mask, and tossing the empty container to the side somewhat disgustedly.

Where Tali could go next was a mystery. She had originally expected to come to this place finding "untold treasures", as Raan had told her, but so far all she could find was racism and sweaty merchants. She stood up, walking past the various merchant stalls as she had been lately, not really looking for anything in particular, but also making sure to stay a fair distance away—the owners weren't typically very friendly to her when she came too close. She was half-heartedly examining the schematics for a grand looking spacecraft for afar when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tali said, believing that she was in the man's way.

"Oh, no, it's no problem," the man said, waving his hands in front of him. "Are you new around here?"

Tali somewhat cautiously looked around, wondering if it was some kind of setup, before she quickly nodded a few times. The man didn't look particularly threatening. Perhaps it was his blonde hair and blue eyes—it made him look sincere.

"I know sometimes it's pretty tough for quarians around here," the man said. "Would you like a place to sleep for the night, and maybe something tastier to eat?" The man gestured towards the bottles of nutrient paste in the bag that Tali was carrying.

It was certainly an interesting prospect. Tali hadn't really been able to find a good place to sleep for the last few days—one night, she had even been forced to sleep out behind a restaurant because the manager of a nearby hotel refused to allow a quarian to stay for the night. But it was awfully strange that this man would offer a room for free. "What is the cost?"

"No cost, for you. I… I had a quarian friend. He left a while ago, and I guess I've just been a little lonely. If you could stay for supper, and maybe talk for a little while…" the man trailed off.

It was very tempting at this point. Supper _and_a bed for the night?

"Ok," Tali said.

"I'm Isaac Guillory, by the way. You are?"

"Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. You don't see many quarians around these parts. How have people been treating you?" Isaac walked away as he began talking, apparently heading to his lodgings.

"Badly," Tali said somewhat bitterly. "I was told that people weren't very accepting of quarians, but I always thought that they were just overreacting."

Isaac frowned at her. "It's a tough life, you have. Always in those suits, and everybody is so stuck up in their ways that they won't even give you a chance to prove yourself."

Tali nodded at him. "If only some of these people could actually see what life was like on the Fleet, maybe they would understand that we're not so different under these suits."

Isaac ducked inside of an alleyway, gesturing for Tali to follow. He walked ahead a fair distance before beckoning to Tali once more, opening up a door into what looked to be a fairly dingy apartment. Tali wasn't going to complain, though. A dingy apartment was better than a dirty floor any day of the week. When she stepped in, though, she was surprised by what she saw.

The room that she entered was large, with a grand staircase located right in the middle of the room. Everything was tiled white, giving everything a very clean appearance. A large, silver chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room. There was a closet on one side of the room, and a red rug on the floor making the room feel cozy despite its size. _Hidden treasures,_Tali thought, looking back outside at the poor-looking alleyway that she had just come from.

"It's amazing," Tali said, somewhat unconsciously. Isaac smiled and chuckled.

"In my line of work, I get paid fairly well. I guess I haven't really held back on indulging a little." Isaac continued down the hallway. "Speaking of work, what kind of work are you experienced with?"

Tali followed him before responding. "My father was a very accomplished engineer. He works a lot with the geth and other technology. He taught me a lot of stuff."

"So you know a lot about the geth?"

Tali nodded her head. "Well, more than most people, at least."

Isaac nodded back. "Just in here, we can eat. I've got some sterile food left over—a few plants—'_Rhi'gora'_, or something? I've also got a little bit a kanniro meat left over."

The next room was just as grand as the last. Perhaps it was the mention at some food that was native to her home planet that excited, but the design of the room was certainly beautiful as well. This room was tiled similarly with marble, but there were a variety of cabinets on the far side of the room, made of some warm-colored wood, and a table in the middle of the room with three chairs around it, all made of the same material.

"Come, sit down, Tali," Isaac said, gesturing to one of the open seats, while taking one himself.

She sat down in the seat, sitting up a little bit straighter, trying to look a little bit taller against the man. "Thank you so much again for this."

"It's my pleasure," Isaac said, warmly smiling at Tali. "Here, I'll go bring some food in."

Isaac stood up, and walked through another door into what Tali presumed was a kitchen of some sort. She wiggled from side to side, settling down comfortably into her chair. It was certainly a very nice house, from what she could tell. What Isaac did was beyond her—and it didn't really matter to her right now. It was comfortable, and from what she could tell, Isaac hadn't meant her any harm. _After all,_ she thought, _if he wanted to hurt me, he could have already done so._

Isaac walked through the door once more, holding a white plate on his hand. "Dinner for two," he proudly proclaimed, as he placed the large platter onto the table.

Tali looked at the bird lying on the platter hungrily. That was definitely a kanniro if she ever saw one—cooked to perfection, based on the bluish tinge of the bird's skin. Beside it were a variety of dark green colored plants, which also looked fairly familiar to Tali. The food matched the description that Isaac provided. It certainly smelt safe enough—even through the olfactory ducts in Tali's suit. She licked her lips, only now realizing how hungry she actually was.

Isaac pulled a pair of plates from a nearby cabinet, as well as a box of some other dried food that he poured onto his own plate. Tali frowned and looked up at him, now feeling selfish for having such a large meal to herself, while her newfound friend was eating what appeared to be breadcrumbs of some kind.

"Are you sure this is ok? I-I mean, I don't want to impose…"

"Nonsense. I can't eat this stuff anyways, so I'd rather a lovely girl like you finish it before it goes to waste."

Tali nodded, trying to accept his logic. But it _did smell really good_.

_I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a little,_Tali thought, as she reached for a piece of the bird.

"Don't worry, it's all sterile, and I have an environmental filter running, so the air should be fairly clean. You could take your suit off, if you wanted," Isaac said, shrugging to himself. When he noticed Tali's discomfort, he quietly added "But you don't have to".

Tali was busy inserting pieces of the roasted bird into her suit via a port that acted similar to an airlock—it would hold the piece of food, quickly disinfecting it using high powered gamma rays, and then open up the other end, allowing Tali to eat it.

"So, tell me more about what your father did."

Tali nodded, happily chewing on the bird, enjoying the flavor that she had so badly missed—even though she had only been away from the fleet for a few days, now. "Well, my dad has always been really smart. He makes a lot of machinery that is really important to the fleet. He also knows a lot about the geth."

"So, how much do you know?"

"My dad taught me a lot of what he knew. I guess he wanted me to be well prepared once I went on my Pilgrimage."

"Have you ever worked with cybernetics before?"

Tali shook her head. "You mean implants and stuff? No. I never really learned much about them."

There was a short silence. Tali hoped she hadn't somehow offender her gracious host, so she quickly tried to break the awkward pause. "So, what kind of work do you do?"

"It's not important. Tell me more about what you know about the geth."

Tali raised an eyebrow inside of her suit—a gesture that she knew wouldn't be seen, but she still did it anyways. "Well, my dad always had a couple lying around in his lab—he showed me how to take them apart, and put them back together. I guess he didn't want me breaking anything." Tali chuckled. "One time, when I was young, I snuck into his lab, and I tried to open up one of the geth to see if they were like us on the inside. My dad caught me and—"

"I see. So, you could repair a geth if you needed to?"

Now it was getting a bit strange. As much as she was enjoying herself, munching on a few of the rhi'gora leaves, Isaac's fixation on her relationship with the geth was somewhat unnerving. "Well, I guess I could, but…"

Isaac interrupted her, putting a hand up. "I have something to show you," he said, a smile appearing on his face. "Follow me."

Tali stood up from her chair, watching as the man pulled a set of keys from his pocket—a rather strange sight, since most people just used passcode locks nowadays. He walked up to a door in the back of the room—one that Tali hadn't even noticed earlier—and inserted the key, unlocking the door. He silently swung it open, beckoning for Tali to enter the dark room.

_Something's not right_, Tali's instincts told her. Every logical thought in her mind told her to turn around and run _now_, but she kept walking forward, stepping into the dark room. Isaac followed her in, closing the door behind them, momentarily leaving them in darkness, before he turned the lights on.

As the room lit up, Tali could see twelve geth platforms lined up against the wall. Their tall, silvery bodies seemed to shine against the faint lighting coming from the long lights up on the ceiling. As she looked more carefully, she could see that they were in varying conditions—some of them looked almost new, their metal chestplates still gleaming, whilst others looked in desperate need of repair, various bullet holes, bends, bumps, scratches, and other imperfections pockmarking their silvery skin.

"You're not leaving this room until every single one is in perfect condition," Isaac said, the warm tone suddenly gone, replaced by an icy cold sharpness.

Tali spun around on her heels, a hand on her shotgun, terrified by the unexpected change in the man.

"Put that thing away. You couldn't even punch through my shields before I killed you." Isaac turned away from her, walking towards the line of geth platforms. "There are my children, my babies, and they've been wounded. I need someone to fix them, a healer… like you." He spun around, a wicked grin on his face. "You'll find the required materials in the back room. I'll check on your progress in the morning.

Tali shook her head. "No."

"Then die!" Isaac's omni-tool flared to life as he quickly pressed a few buttons. The geth that were lying inactive to the side suddenly straightened, their optics slowly beginning to glow. Their elongated heads turned to face Tali, bringing their rifles to bear.

Tali swung her shotgun from her back in one swift movement, looking down the sights and aiming the gun at Isaac, hoping to take him down quickly. Isaac merely stood and laughed as he imagined the pitiful quarian unleashing her meaningless hail of bullets against his impenetrable shields. As he was imagining ending the poor girl's life himself, he watched as his shields suddenly flickered momentarily, and flashed, burning out just as quickly as they had come to life. Tali smiled, glad she had packed disruptor rounds into her shotgun this morning.

Isaac hissed, one of the bullets passing through his side, leaving a small, bloody trail. Another burst came flying towards him, this time unhindered by his shields, slicing through his left flank as he fled towards the rear door, jumping through it and slamming it shut behind him.

_Damnit,_Tali thought. She didn't do enough damage to Isaac to keep him down. And now she had six hostile geth, just about prepared to take her down.

Tali pulled a small, round ball out of a pocket, throwing it down in the middle of the geth. She looked away, waiting for the telltale "bang" before turning back around, and running past the geth, their optics temporarily disabled from the flashbang. She pulled on the door handle that Isaac had run through, but it was already locked. Silently cursing, she ran into the workshop that Isaac had been talking about earlier. She jumped over a workbench, knocking it over and falling down beside it, hoping that the metal table would provide some cover. She heard the geth reactivating their optics, preparing to come after her once more. It would only be a matter of time before they found her. And she wasn't prepared to take down the heavily armored geth units—even with the disruptor ammo that she had.

She pulled up her omni-tool, rapidly searching through a long list of active programs she had installed. She finally found the one she was looking for—"Geth AI Hack", by Rael'Zorah. She initialized the program, hoping that it would activate before the geth filled her with holes. One of the geth made it into the room—she could tell by the sound of their hydraulic legs lifting up and down. Tali quickly stood up, bringing her shotgun to bear, shooting at the lead geth, stunning it momentarily as its circuits overloaded from the disruptor rounds. It was far from dead, though. She just needed to buy herself some more time.

She stood up once more, firing at the second geth, slowing it down similarly. She looked down at her omni-tool. The program was almost ready, but her shields were already halfway down. She couldn't handle much more of this. She stood up once more, firing a shot off at the lead geth once more, her shields flaring blue as their power reserves were used up. She ducked back down quickly, hoping to avoid being shot. The program was ready. Now to activate it.

She leaned out from the side of her cover, hoping that the geth would be expecting her to pop out from the top—that is, if that even mattered against an enemy like the geth. She pointed her omni-tool in the direction of the lead geth, and tapped a button on the side, withdrawing her arm just as they began to fire in her direction.

Her attempt wasn't quite fast enough, though. A sharp pain filled her arm as she realized that one of the geth had been successful in wounding her. She panicked as he felt her suit closing in on her, until she realized that it was only the self defense mechanisms, blocking off the wound from spreading. She looked down at her arm to see a bloody scrape along the top of her arm where the bullet had whizzed by. It left a tear in her environment suit, despite the suit being fabricated from a very tough material. She quickly pulled up her omni-tool once more, activating triple the recommended dose of antibiotics for a bullet wound, as well as the automated dispersal of medigel. It was her first wound—it was better to be safe than sorry.

While she was fussing with her wound, she had almost forgotten about the extremely hostile geth that were closing in on her position. She grabbed her shotgun, hoping to take at least a few of them out, standing up from behind her cover once more, preparing to unload into the lead geth once more.

When she stood up, she realized that it was unnecessary. The lead geth, as well as the one following it, had turned around and were firing into the ones following, and doing a pretty good job of it, as far as Tali could tell. _Thank you, Father,_Tali silently muttered to herself as she waited for the geth to finish each other off. After a few moments, she heard the telltale sounds of shields shattering, as the lead geth took down the platforms that followed him. Apparently, the ones in the back were the damaged platforms that she had seen earlier—and as a result, were much more prone to damage. All was silent as the lead geth stood alone—his friend now lying on the ground, a mostly mangled up pile of metal and circuitry. It was surprising how tough the geth was—it had taken a number of shotgun rounds to the face, as well as withstanding the abuse of its allies for a good few minutes. It now stood still, the hack that Tali had launched against it still holding strong.

It was a silly idea at a time like this, but Tali felt that she had to. It was the first time she had ever seen a real geth, after all, and it could have useful information. Maybe even something that she could take back to the Fleet. She pulled up another program on her omni-tool, one that would freeze all the running instances inside of the geth platform, and allow her to quickly remove the memory banks from inside of the geth before it deleted them. It was a difficult process, but her father had shown her how to do it many times before.

But never against a geth holding a loaded assault rifle.

She silently prayed to anything that might help her, as she ran towards the geth, holding one hand up with the omni-tool, prepared to launch the code freeze, and the other hand outstretched to try and pry off the geth's front chestplate and access the memory module within.

Removing the chestplate should have been fairly straightforward. Underneath the chin—if it could really be called that—there was a small latch that could be pulled on which would disengage the chest plate, allowing for easy access to the memory core within. Apparently, her shotgun had done more damage that she had anticipated, however, as the metal chestplate, slightly buckled and bent under the stress of being fired at, held firm against the exertions of the quarian. She put a foot against the geth's leg, and pulled once more, this time with both hands, the plate flying off as Tali fell backwards, losing her balance. There wasn't much time left, the code freeze wouldn't last for much longer, and once it ended, Tali knew that the geth would bring the might of that assault rifle to bear against her once more. She stood up, reaching into the Geth platform, for a moment, briefly holding her hand in between the central processor and the memory banks. Pragmatism overruled greed, and she pulled out the processor, as the geth would still be able to shoot without its memory core.

It proved to be the correct decision when the geth attempted to return back to life, but without its processor, it was unable to proceed with its combat programming, leaving it a useless husk. Its backup processors kicked in, running the emergency shutdown scripts. The memory core would be wiped clean in just a few seconds if Tali didn't hurry. She quickly reached into the geth's chest once more, quickly pulling the flat memory core out the geth before kicking the now-useless machine to the ground, and tucking the memory core into a pocket.

But there was no more time to linger. She had overstayed her welcome on Illium—it was time to get out, and fast. She picked up her shotgun, running to the door which Isaac had ran out of a few minutes ago. She held her omni-tool up to the door, quickly running a hacking operating which should open the door for her. The hologram on her wrist lit up, and the door slid open, revealing a trail of blood leading down the alleyway which the door had opened into, but the trail suddenly disappeared short of the main streets.

There was no time to worry about Isaac, not right now, not when she was still in danger. And she knew that nobody would be in a hurry to help her if she was attacked—not even if she was in the middle of a large crowd. She ran out of the alleyway, running down the street towards the port—ignoring the cries of various other people shouting "Thief! Stop the thief!"

Luckily, nobody was quite so paranoid of the quarian to send any kind of law enforcement to subdue Tali. She ran up to the port, out of breath, as she quickly scanned the board, looking for a trip out of the hellhole of a city.

_There, the Citadel. _There was a flight leaving in just five minutes, down at docking bay… A17. Tali ran as fast as she could—despite the protests from her muscles and lungs—as she approached the docking bay where an average sized shuttle was preparing to leave.

"Stop! Wait!" Tali shouted to a man with greying hair who was presumably the pilot, about to climb into the shuttle. He stopped and turned towards the quarian running at him, frowning slightly.

"What?"

Tali ran up to him, leaning forwards, trying to catch her breath. "I… need… to… get out of here."

"What the hell did you steal?"

"I didn't steal anything, you bosh'tet!" Tali shouted, losing her patience with everybody and their racist presumptions. "I need to get to the Citadel."

The old man eyed Tali's shotgun, gesturing to it. "You can't have that on my shuttle."

Tali looked down at the shotgun—a gift from Admiral Han'Gerrel, as a going-away present on her pilgrimage. She grimaced, not wanting to give up the shotgun. But it was better than being dead. She unlatched the shotgun from her back, handing it to the man.

"Do what you like with it," Tali said, somewhat dejectedly. "I have credits. May I come aboard?"

The man stood silent for a moment before nodding. "You better not cause any trouble, or I'm throwing you out of the airlock."

Tali merely nodded, and jumped into the shuttle, safely locked away.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Any questions, comments, pet-peeves, suggestions, or anything else?

Leave a comment, write a review, or send me an email.

I'm currently trying to put a chapter out every three days. I'll do my best to keep to that schedule!


	4. Memories

**:: Chapter Four ::** Memories **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_I washed myself with pain long ago,_

_So deep that nothing can reach me._

_These deep shadows of my heart, crushing pain,_

_It follows me in voices, the rooms, the garden,_

_Leaving me to bleed the truth of it all._

_Whoever is sentenced to love will bow down_

_As a servant of sorrow._

_-Swallow the Sun-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Shepard, you flank them from behind. Jenkins and I will take point."

Shepard nodded in acceptance of Kaidan's plans. Kaidan hadn't killed him yet, and at least it would put him in effective range once more. Shepard activated his cloaking module, watching as his armor quickly turned transparent. He stepped around the corner, looking into the large, open chamber which held six guards outside of another room, which was presumably where Bartok, their target, would be residing. They had to make this a quick fight, or else they risked letting the man get away.

Shepard quickly stepped past the first few guards, standing in the back corner of the room, his shotgun at the ready. As soon as Kaidan and Jenkins were in position, he would strike.

"Movement in the hallway!" one of the guards shouted, bringing his assault rifle to bear. The other guards jumped to attention as well, moving to intercept the intruders.

Shepard quietly disengaged his cloaking module, walking up behind one of the guards, quickly bending down and sliding the knife from his boot in one smooth movement. Before the guard could even react, Shepard grabbed the back of his head and snapped it backwards, deftly sliding the knife past his throat, leaving the man without a voice to scream, as he fell forwards, blood welling from the wound.

Two more men fell to Shepard's blade before the remaining guards took notice of the real threat. The first guard quickly glanced back, wondering where his support fire had disappeared off to, when he nearly choked in fear, seeing two of his companions lying on the ground, pools of blood welling up underneath their bodies, his third friend falling to the ground as Shepard sliced him open.

"Damnit, behind us!" the lead guard shouted, now unable to decide which direction to face—towards the man with the large shotgun and a knife stained with the blood of three friends, or towards the two soldiers firing round on their position.

Shepard swung his shotgun up from his hip, already aiming at one of the remaining guards. As his shotgun fired, knocking one of the guards off of his feet and into a nearby wall, Kaidan biotically lifted up another, the man's gun falling from his grasp as he flailed around in mid-air, attempting to regain his footing. Before the last guard could react to the chaos around him, Jenkins was at his side, holding his assault rifle up to the man's head.

With a few pulls of the trigger, the skirmish was over. A well executed plan, Shepard's shields had barely fallen below sixty percent, despite coming under direct fire for a few short moments as the guards realized they had been fooled.

"Quick!" Kaidan yelled, running towards the door at the back of the room. "Before he has a chance to get away!'

Kaidan quickly opened the door, pulling his sidearm from its holster as he entered the room. Jenkins followed suit, covering Kaidan's flank. But their caution was unnecessary.

A batarian stood in the center of the room, wearing what looked to be a simple refugee's shirt and jacket. He held both of his hands behind his back, standing straight and tall, but appeared to be unarmed.

"Bartok?" Kaidan asked, keeping his pistol aimed at the man's head.

The batarian laughed, a deep, throaty sound, before he responded. "So, you have finally reached me."

Shepard pulled his shotgun up, bringing it to aim against Bartok. Kaidan put an arm out, pushing the barrel of his gun down. "He's more useful alive, Shepard."

"It's only fitting that the 'great Hero of Elysium' would be the one to bring me down," Bartok mocked, a sinister smile on his face. "The place where you slaughtered hundreds of my brothers and sisters."

"They were damned murderers and pirates," Shepard snarled, stepped forwards. "And you deserve to die with them."

"Empty threats from a hollow man," Bartok replied coolly. "I'll send you to join the graves of your friends soon enough."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Shepard took another step forward, clenching his fists. Kaidan grabbed at Shepard's shoulder, but he merely shook the hand off.

"How do you think that Roy Marshall would feel knowing that you left him to die? Or Kurt Nolf? Or Andrew—"

"Shut the hell up!" Shepard screamed at the man, as he swung his fist into the batarian's smug face. Ignoring Kaidan's protests, Shepard continued to attack the man, slamming him into the wall behind him before pummeling him in the chest and stomach. Kaidan and Jenkins grabbed Shepard, pulling him off the bleeding batarian.

"How the hell do you know?"

"Your sovereign ruler knows all… your every weakness, your every failure. You will be crushed under his heel for your cowardice!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Shepard ducked down, evading Kaidan's grasp on him. It wasn't just a batarian standing in front of him now. He was back on Akuze, standing beside his closest friends, watching as soldiers began to pour out from behind the walls of the ruins they stood in.

_"Damn it! We're surrounded!" Roy shouted out from behind him, pulling the grenade launcher from his back. _

_The hail of fire was unleashed, the soldiers, in their heavy, black armor, pumping rounds into the pitiful cover that his squad now hid behind. He watched as Randall was shot in the side, falling over, clutching his wounds._

_Emanuel, their field medic, rushed over to Randall, pulling his armor off. "Damn it, they're using incendiary ammo! The medi-gel won't stick!"_

_Andrew stood up, trying to shut down the weapons of the soldiers that were now closing in on them. He stood, omni-tool out, gritting his teeth as he tried to lock onto his target. A bright blue flash surrounded him, before he fell to the ground, dead, as his shields failed._

_"Damnit! Shepard, what do we do?" Roy shouted at him. Shepard looked back at the expert tactician, unable to find the breath to speak._

_Suddenly, the ground began to rumble, a loud screeching sound resounding through the compound._

_"Shit! It's a thresher maw!"_

_"Shepard! Shepard!"_

"Damnit, Shepard! Get off him!"

Kaidan pulled Shepard back, as Shepard pulled his knife out of Bartok's chest. He looked down at his hands, warm, sticky blood running all over them.

"Saren… will… destroy…" Bartok took one last breath as blood began to pour out of his mouth, before his eyes suddenly lost focus, growing dull. Shepard stood in front of the dead man, breathing heavily.

"What the hell was that, Shepard?" Kaidan asked, throwing his arms into the air. "We were supposed to take him in for questioning."

Shepard just shook his head slowly, and sat down on the ground. He threw the knife down in front of him, looking at his bloody hands.

"…Shepard?" Jenkins asked, a concerned look on his face. "Are you ok?"

Shepard sat still for a moment, before he stood back up and said "I'm fine."

"Fine? I wouldn't call that mess over there _fine_," Kaidan said, gesturing to the bloody body over on the wall. He sighed heavily.

"Let's just get out over here before the rest of the guards realize he's dead."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Have you found her yet?" Fist asked, pacing back and forth in his small room.

"Nobody's reported her yet," Markus replied, slowly shaking his head. "She probably hasn't even made it to the Citadel."

"You better damn well hope that she's on her way to the Citadel, and not some other city."

"Isaac assured us that she would be heading to the Citadel," Markus replied.

"I never trusted Isaac—too much time playing around, not enough time actually getting shit done."

Markus smiled at the shared sentiment. "It won't be too hard to find her. And if she's got that kind of data on her? I doubt she'll be laying low."

"And when she leaks it… is C-sec coming to get us?"

"Don't worry about it," Markus replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I've got an arrangement with Karrok."

"And how do you know he'll keep to that arrangement?"

"Because if he doesn't, his daughter gets a bullet to the head."

Fist smiled back at Markus. "You crazy bastard, you."

Markus smiled back at him. "Whatever it takes to get the job done."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"It just doesn't make sense," Anderson said, shaking his head slowly. "What does Saren have to do with this group of brigands?"

"Bartok was almost crazy when we found him. Maybe he just _thought_he was working with Saren," Kaidan replied, shrugging as if he barely believed his own speculation.

"Who is Saren, anyways?" Shepard asked, still confused about the whole situation.

"He's a turian spectre," Anderson replied. "One of the best."

"Does he have any reason to be working with pirates?" Shepard asked, still unsure of the duties of Spectres as a whole. "Maybe working as a double agent for the purposes of infiltration?"

"I wouldn't peg Saren as the type for subtlety. No, if he has any reason to know Bartok, it's to kill him."

Anderson shook his head, still searching for answers. "We'll file this for now," he said, turning away from Shepard and Kaidan. "But for now, we have more pressing matters." He pulled out a datapad from his desk, and handed it over to Kaidan. "Nihlus Kryik, one of the council Spectres, will be arriving onto the Normandy tomorrow morning. He's going to be the one to oversee our Spectre candidates—so I want everything shipshape before he gets here."

Shepard and Kaidan both nodded. "He'll be coming with us tomorrow, as well, in order to evaluate your performance in various fields. We're heading to Xanadu, in the Utopia system, so I hope that the two of you still remember your atmospheric protocols—the nights can dip below negative two hundred, so I'm sure you'd appreciate a little bit of warmth."

"What are we going to be doing there?" Kaidan asked.

"That's classified," Anderson replied, a small smile on his face. "They want to see how well you can adapt to an unknown situation, so I can't tell you what to expect. But you'll do fine—I wouldn't be too worried."

Shepard still wasn't convinced of this whole Spectre business. The appeal wasn't very apparent to him—it didn't seem all to glamorous, as far as he could tell. Kaidan could have be the Spectre—let him have the position.

"Alright, that's everything. Make sure you get some rest before tomorrow morning. See you then." Anderson nodded once, and sat back down in his desk.

Kaidan and Shepard stepped out of Anderson's chambers, closing the door behind them. Shepard began to walk away, heading towards his locker, when he felt Kaidan's hand on his shoulder.

"What happened out there, Shepard?"

Shepard sighed. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit," Kaidan said, anger coming into his voice. "You stabbed Bartok twelve times before Jenkins and I could pull you off of him. You're lucky I didn't tell Anderson."

"Are you here to gloat, asking for my thanks?" Shepard said, upset that the man was seemingly holding such a thing against him. "Tell him. It doesn't matter to me."

"It matters to Alliance brass. After Trebin, your mission reports have been getting forwarded to command to confirm that you haven't lost your damn mind."

"What?"

"Damn right, I just saved your military career. Now, tell me what the hell happened."

Shepard sighed. Kaidan wasn't going to be leaving him alone any time soon, and he did have a point. If Shepard didn't have the Alliance to fall into, he didn't know what he would do. He hadn't realized that anyone had taken note of his actions—but he wasn't particularly surprised.

"Do you know of Akuze?" Shepard asked, a pained look returning to his face.

Kaidan nodded silently.

"I lost everything I ever cared about," Shepard whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke the words that had been in his mind for so long. "I watched everything that I lived for burn and die as I _ran_."

Kaidan nodded, not quite expecting the revelation at all. "Is that what Bartok was talking about?"

Shepard paused, looking away from Kaidan. "Yes."

"Shepard…" Kaidan said, trying to find words that might comfort the man. "We've all lost something—"

"Don't even talk to me about loss!" Shepard yelled, spinning around on Kaidan. "I lost every goddamn thing that ever mattered to me! Damn batarian pirates slaughtered my parents, and a fucking thresher maw murdered my closest friends." Shepard stepped close to Kaidan, and said in a quiet whisper, "So don't even talk to me about fucking loss."

Shepard turned around, walking towards his locker, his hands balled up in fists. _Every god damned thing,_ Shepard lamented, as he pulled on his locker door, roughly jerking it open. _I should have died with them._

Shepard unhooked his shotgun from his back and tossed it into the bottom of the locker. _It's still not too late to rectify that_, he thought bitterly, as he lifted his pistol from his holster. He flicked the safety on the pistol off, thumbing the trigger. _It would take only one bullet._

He sighed heavily, and tossed the pistol into the locker beside his shotgun. He needed to find the ones who did this to him, the soldiers in their heavy, dark black armor. He would find them, and he would make every single of them suffer for what they did to him.

He pulled his knife from his boot, admiring its brutal simplicity. The handle was worn smooth by so many years of use, the silvery blade still retaining the pointed tip that had taken so many lives in the short year that Shepard had it.

Shepard closed his eyes, his mind back on Akuze once more.

_"Shepard, you need to get in behind and stop those soldiers!" Boyd shouted at him, lying on the ground, bleeding from his chest. The tough soldier wouldn't be alive for much longer. "Give them hell, Shepard. I'll take care of the thresher maw," Boyd said, pulling his worn combat knife from the sheath on his hip, handing it to Shepard. "Make them suffer… for me." A crooked smile made its way onto Boyd's face, the same one he had seen so many time before. Even in the throes of death, he still smiled._

_Shepard gripped the blade tightly in his hand, the man's last words ringing in his head. He would make them suffer. He pressed a few buttons on his omni-tool, activating his cloaking module._

A tear rolled down Shepard's cheek as he relived the moment in his mind, as he had done so many hundreds of time before. He held the knife in his hands, Boyd's knife, as he took a deep breath, blinking away any tears. He would find the men who did this.

And they would suffer.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Change of plans, Joker. Set course to Eden Prime."

"Eden Prime?" Joker asked, adjusting their destination as he turned to look at Anderson out of the corner of his eye.

"We've lost all comm traffic to the colony there, and we're the closest ship. And if there are hostiles, our stealth drive will come in handy."

Anderson was secretly worried about what he would find. Being the Captain of a ship, and also a close friend of Admiral Hackett, he tended to receive more sensitive information. He knew that there were more than just houses and resources on Eden Prime—just a few days ago, they had uncovered a Prothean statue of some sort. The last time that humans had found Prothean tech, they had learned about the seemingly mystical properties of Element Zero, pushing them into the lands of spacecraft and faster-than-light travel. In a few short centuries, humans had advanced more than they had in the past three millennia. A discovery like this could be huge—the Protheans had still still carried many secrets to their graves—like the mysteries behind the Citadel, or the inner workings of the Mass Relays.

But if Eden Prime was under attack, so were the Prothean secrets. It shouldn't have been pirates, or mere raiders. Nobody would have known about the discovery—unless they were one of the few told about it.

Saren crossed Anderson's mind once more. The fact that Bartok, a reputed pirate, had mentioned him had unsettling implications. Anderson wouldn't put it behind Saren to try and steal secrets away from mankind—after all, Saren had never looked fondly upon humanity encroaching on the other Council species. But they wouldn't know until they landed.

Nihlus stepped into the cockpit as well, nodding to Anderson. He could tell by the expression on his face—even despite the turian's strange facial structure—that similar thoughts likely passed through the mind of the Spectre. A notion crossed through Anderson's mind—what if this was all a trap? What if Nihlus had helped plan the attack? Something about it seemed too convenient. An extremely valuable Prothean obelisk, under attack at the same time as the most expensive ship in the Alliance fleet happened to be in the neighborhood?

Anderson shook the suspicions out of his head. He had worked with Nihlus before, and the turian hadn't shown any malevolence towards humanity. Perhaps it wasn't anything to be worried about—maybe the obelisk had disrupted communications somehow.

"Uh, Captain? Incoming video transmission from Eden Prime," Joker said, looking towards Anderson.

"Send it to the Comm room," Anderson replied, standing up, beckoning towards Nihlus. "Tell Kaidan and Shepard to meet me there."

Anderson walked into the comm room, Nihlus following behind, and began pressing a few buttons on the terminal. Shepard and Kaidan ran in shortly after.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Kaidan asked as he walked through the door.

"There's been a change in plans," Anderson said.

"We're going to Eden Prime," Nihlus finished. "We've lost comm traffic to the colony, so we need to get in there and find out what is going on."

"Pirates?" Shepard asked, clenching his fists as he spoke. Anderson eyed him somewhat suspiciously, having overheard the conversation that he and Kaidan had the previous night.

"We'll see," Anderson said, starting playback of the video transmission.

Shaky footage began to play on the screen, likely a helmet camera of some sort.

"Shit! They just keep dropping!"

The man with the camera turned and ran, briefly looking back at a squad of a dozen or so soldiers who were dressed in shiny, silvery armor. A loud blare began to sound, followed by the screams of various soldiers.

"It's coming back! Take cover!"

Suddenly, the ground exploded in fire, approaching the man with the camera before the video feed cut to black."

"What was that?" Kaidan asked, stunned by the chaos.

"Heavily armored brigands of some sort? But that doesn't explain what that big explosion was," Nihlus said, shaking his head. "Maybe a new kind of incendiary grenade?"

"Not pirates," Anderson said breathlessly. "Geth."

He rewound the footage back to where the soldier had quickly glanced backwards, pausing it. By first appearances, it looked like a group of soldiers, but men didn't have glowing faces.

"Geth?" Shepard asked. "I thought that they haven't been seen for hundreds of years."

"They haven't been," Anderson confirmed, shaking his head.

"They've been in hiding, preparing to strike!" Nihlus speculated. "They must have developed new weapons."

"We have to stop them," Anderson said. "Before they get to the obelisk."

"What obelisk?" Shepard asked as Nihlus glared at Anderson.

"I'm not going to risk my squad's life when they don't even know what they're fighting for." Anderson said to Nihlus. Nihlus merely nodded grimly.

"Two days ago, Alliance dig teams unearthed what they believe to be a Prothean statue of some sort."

"Protheans?" Kaidan asked. "You mean the people who created the Mass Relays?"

"Yes," Anderson replied. "And the last time we found Prothean tech, we were able to create the first starships capable of faster-than-light travel. This could be big—but not if we lose it. Kaidan, go get Jenkins and tell him to ready up the marines. Suit up, as well—I'm sending the two of you with Nihlus to try and secure the Prothean tech while Jenkins and I command the marine squad and try to provide fire support to local militia."

"Yes sir," Kaidan dutifully replied, giving Anderson a salute. Kaidan and Shepard walked out of the comm room, closing the door behind them.

"You didn't have to tell them about the artifact," Nihlus said disapprovingly.

"I already told you, they need to know what they're fighting for."

"You don't command enough respect for them to follow you anyways?"

"More than you'll ever know," Anderson retorted. "And I respect them. That is why I told them."

Nihlus sighed and began to pace the room. "So, those two are the candidates?"

"Yes. Kaidan Alenko, the one with the blue uniform, is an L2 biotic. He has considerable tactical prowess, as well as strong leadership abilities."

"And the other?"

"John Shepard... Class seventeen infiltrator, top of his class in hand-to-hand combat. Lots of leadership experience."

"Experience?"

"Yes," Anderson replied. "He commanded a squad of eight other marines… but they died on Akuze when his squad was taken by surprise by a thresher maw."

Nihlus merely nodded, a pensive look on his face.

"We'll see how they do on the ground. I'll see you there, Captain."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Any questions, comments, pet-peeves, suggestions, or anything else?

Leave a comment, write a review, or send me an email.

I'm currently trying to put a chapter out every three days. I'll do my best to keep to that schedule!


	5. The Lamb

**:: Chapter Five :: **The Lamb **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_I swallow forgotten words_

_To gain what was lost,_

_And lost what was gained_

_Until neither is real._

_I have reached a beginning,_

_But somehow I do not stop._

_I fall through the first moment,_

_To find that there is more._

_As light cascades_

_Through the hole my body has torn_

_Already, it is closing._

_-Be'lakor-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

The Mako slammed down on the ground, bouncing as it slowed down, rolling around in the open plain where they came to rest. Nihlus, Shepard and Kaidan stepped out, bringing their weapons to bear.

"We won't be able to use that tank while we're in here," Nihlus said. "It's too bulky—it won't fit through the buildings or in the small valleys we'll be traveling through."

"What's our first objective?" Shepard asked, rolling his shotgun in his hands.

"We'll want to secure that Prothean obelisk. I'm not sure how heavy the resistance will be, but hopefully we'll avoid detection. Anderson's squad will try and thin them down for us, but it's our duty to make sure we don't lose that Prothean tech."

"Where do we need to go?" Kaidan asked.

"I'll upload the coordinates of the dig site to your omni-tool," Nihlus said, the device on his wrist flaring brightly as he poked at it with a talon. "It's a short distance to the west."

Kaidan's omni-tool flared to life as he received the navigation data. "Alright, let's get moving."

Kaidan and Shepard began to walk towards one end of the clearing, but Nihlus stood behind, armed crossed on his chest.

"Coming?" Shepard asked.

"No," Nihlus replied. "This mission is too important. You'll only give my position away. Keep in radio contact—try not to die."

Nihlus turned around and began running in the opposite direction. Whatever he was doing, it certainly wasn't helping anyone right now. Shepard and Kaidan exchanged a somewhat annoyed glance before they continued on.

"Well, without our turian friend, I guess it's just your shotgun and my biotics," Kaidan said, nodding to Shepard.

"It shouldn't be too bad," Shepard replied. "I can get in behind the enemy ranks and disable them while you keep them distracted."

Kaidan shook his head. "I know you like poking things to death, but these aren't pirates. These are angry robots that don't feel pain or have any visible weaknesses—even if you can split some wires, there are so many redundant processes that the thing would probably still turn around and gun you down."

"How do you know so much about these?" Shepard asked, eyeing Kaidan curiously.

"I don't," Kaidan replied. "But it was part of my curriculum back in biotic camp."

"So, if you don't want me behind them, what should we be doing?"

"I guess we'll do it the old fashioned way—I keep them down with my pistol, while you close the gap and disable them with your shotgun."

"Wouldn't it just be more—"

"Wait! Quiet!" Kaidan said in a hushed whisper. Shepard stopped, listening. In the distance, he could hear a strange sound, like the hissing of air from a gas tank.

"Get into cover," Kaidan said, ducking down behind a boulder. Shepard followed him, crouching beside him.

The hissing sound became louder and more defined as it came closer. Now that he could hear it more clearly, it was an on and off whirring of machinery, hissing with each alternation. The sound of geth hydraulics.

Kaidan held up a hand, signaling for silence, waiting as the sound continued to approach their hiding place. He began counting down, five, four, three, two...

Kaidan and Shepard jumped out of cover simultaneously, swinging their weapons to face the geth standing before them. It showed no signs of surprise, quickly leveling its assault rifle, aiming down its sights at the priority target; the shotgun-toting Shepard.

Kaidan shoved his hand forward, briefly pulsing with blue energy as the geth was thrown backwards by the power of his biotic push. Shepard unloaded three rapid shells into the geth's body, its shielding flaring after the first shot, its armor denting and tearing in many places. Kaidan shot at it a few times as well, making sure it was dead.

"That was simpler than I expected," Kaidan said, holstering his pistol. "I would have thought that—oh, crap!"

The geth began to stand up, apparently unfazed by the beating it had already taken.

Shepard slammed the butt of his shotgun into the glowing light on the head of the geth, shattering the layer of glass covering the visual sensors. He spun his shotgun around, shoving the barrel into the optics, blowing a hole through the back of the geth's head.

The resilient machine finally fell backwards, hopefully dead.

"Damn things won't stay down," Shepard remarked, pushing the metal husk with his boot. "Do you think it's dead?"

"Not sure," Kaidan said, as he crouched down beside the body. "Maybe if we can find some kind of processing core? Here, help me pull off the chest plate."

Shepard and Kaidan grasped onto the chest plate, pulling on it from both sides. It was sealed firmly, though, and refused to come off.

"This isn't going to work," Kaidan said, letting the machine fall back to the ground. "Just take its gun—I don't think it can really hurt us without it."

Shepard picked up the rifle it was carrying—a strangely shaped weapon with three flanged barrels in a triangular pattern. It appeared to be fairly similar in operation to most other rifles, other than the odd barrel and the trigger mechanism—which was oddly not present. If the weapon was of geth design, it was more than likely only usable by one of the machine race. Regardless, he would hang onto it—he might be able to sell it to some vendor later.

"I hope we don't run into many more of these things," Kaidan said, beginning to walk. "I hope Anderson's team isn't having too much trouble."

"Well, they do have thirty well-armed marines," Shepard said, not particularly concerned.

"Good point. Well, the sooner we get finished here, the sooner we can get out of here. Look, I think that's the obelisk," Kaidan said, pointing over a nearby hill at a tall, metal spire. "That's the dig site over there."

They rounded the corner, weapons hanging loosely off their sides, when Kaidan suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"Shit, Shepard..."

The spire was now in full view, in all its horrendous glory. Bloody stains covered its length, a puddle of dark red pooling at the bottom. Even worse than that was the body that hung from the spike, colored a deep blue and faintly glowing with cybernetics.

"What the hell is that?" Kaidan said, backing away and pulling his rifle from his back.

As he spoke, the spike began to retract, the disfigured body standing up, staring at Shepard with soulless, glowing eyes. Its mouth opened, a deep, low roar escaping its lips, as it charged towards the pair with a long pair of claws sprouting out of each of its fingers.

Kaidan began unloading as many rounds as he could into the strange monster, backing away as he did so, not wanting to risk coming into contact with the creature.

Shepard, despite better reasoning, ran towards the monster, leveling his shotgun at its head, hoping to take the creature out before it would reach him with those dangerous-looking claws. He fired one shot, landing in the creature's neck, making him reel slightly, but not slowing his approach. He tried to take another shot, but it was already upon him, glowing brightly as it suddenly flashed with what seemed to be the intensity of a sun, blinding Shepard.

He realized that he had lost control of his body as he lied convulsing on the ground, his shotgun just beyond his reach. The monster jumped on top of him, squeezing Shepard into the ground, clawing deep gouges into Shepard's chest plate.

He saw one long arm swinging to his face, and tried to avoid it, though he knew he couldn't outright dodge it. He rolled with the blow, lessening the impact, but still receiving three long, bloody gashes across his face from where the claws slid through his flesh.

Kaidan barreled into the monster, rolling him off of Shepard as he grabbed onto its head and fired his pistol into it.

The monster fell to the ground, dead, as Shepard stood up, blood dripping from his face. Kaidan stood up as well, a concerned look on his face.

"Damn, Shepard, that looks bad."

"It's just a scratch," Shepard said, smiling slightly despite the pain.

Kaidan shook his head, reaching into one of his pockets. "Here," he said. "Put some of this on it," as he pulled a packet of medi-gel out of his pocket and tossed it at  
Shepard.

Shepard nodded his thanks, opening the packet up, and gently rubbing it over his wound, as the medi-gel hardened up, sealing the wound off.

"Done playing around?" Nihlus stood on the hill above them, rifle in hand.

"Nihlus," Kaidan said. "Are you going to rejoin us or are we still going to secure the obelisk?"

"Neither," he replied as he slid down the hillside to stand beside them. "There's been a change in plans."

"What do you mean?" Shepard asked.

"The two of you both would have made good Spectres," Nihlus said, sadly shaking his head. "But Saren gets what Saren wants."

Nihlus lifted his rifle towards Kaidan, already firing even as Kaidan tried to dodge away. Shepard swung his shotgun from his side, hoping to knock Nihlus' assault rifle from his hands. Before Shepard could even react, Nihlus extended his arm, catching the shotgun in the palm of his hand, jerking it from Shepard's hands, as he continued to fire bullets at Kaidan.

Kaidan had pulled out his pistol and was firing at Nihlus, but his shields weren't going to last under the kind of fire he was taking. Shepard watched as Kaidan's shields flared blue, his protection failing. Shepard brought up his omni-tool, engaging his cloaking module.

Nihlus shot Kaidan in the leg, bringing the man down to the ground. The turian ran up to him, smacking his pistol from his grip and grabbing him by the neck, bringing him to a standing position.

Shepard stood behind a tree a hundred meters away from Nihlus, having planned on running to try and radio in backup. But Kaidan was still there with him.

He was done running.

He disengaged his cloaking module, pulling the sniper rifle off of his back.

"Shepard! Show yourself, or I make Kaidan suffer!" Nihlus shouted, pulling a long, serrated blade out from a sheath on his leg. Not seeing Shepard returning, he threw the blade on the ground, his threat useless if Shepard wasn't there to witness it.

He pulled his assault rifle to bear, ready to execute Kaidan.

Shepard closed his eyes, slowly taking a deep breath. He aimed down the scope of his sniper rifle, time slowing down as he watched Nihlus bringing his rifle up to Kaidan's head, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Shepard pulled his trigger first, his rifle kicking back as the heavy round flew out of the rifle, flying through the turian's head. Nihlus stood still for a moment, before his rifle fell from his hand, and his knees began to buckle. The turian Spectre fell to the ground, the once great warrior now merely a corpse. Kaidan fell beside him, his leg still wounded.

Shepard quickly packed his rifle on his back, running towards Kaidan. As he approached, he saw the man trying to stand up, an empty medi-gel packet lying on the ground.

"Can you stand?" Shepard asked, extending a hand to Kaidan.

"I'm good," Kaidan said, as Shepard pulled him up. "I'll probably need to get this looked at, but I can stand for now."

Shepard looked around him, unsure where to go. "Is this the dig site?"

Kaidan nodded. "I'm not sure where the obelisk is, though. Unless this is it," he said, motioning towards the spike which the strange creature had come from.

"Captain Anderson", Kaidan said, speaking into his omni-tool. "We're at the dig site. Nihlus just tried to kill us, and the only thing we've found was a strange metal spike with some kind of monster on it."

"Damnit, Nihlus betrayed us?" Anderson replied. "I knew something was strange with this whole mission."

"What about the obelisk?"

"No, that's not it. We've found a few of those spikes ourselves—the colonists are calling them 'dragon's teeth'. Damn, where could that obelisk be?"

There was a momentarily silence before Anderson continued. "I'll look into it. I'll let you know if I learn anything new. In the meantime, there are a few colonists trapped just south of your position. I'm sure they would appreciate some support."

"We're on it, Captain," Kaidan said, nodding to the man who had just saved his life.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Everyone, just stay calm!" Ashley shouted amongst the growing turmoil inside of the small metal shack where over thirty colonists, some young, some old, all huddled together, taking cover from the geth that had attacked them so suddenly. There are so many in here, Ashley thought, looking at a mother who was embracing her young son, at a father who mourned his daughter's death, at a man and his brother facing death itself. So many lives that would be thrown away in a few minutes.

Another explosion rocked the shack, the geth trying to tear a hole through the walls, most likely. They had locked the door and barred it shut with whatever they could find, and once the geth had tried to hack it, they realized that they weren't coming in through the front.

Only a few marines now stood alive with her. The rest of them had all been taken out when the geth had landed, when their huge spacecraft had fired its laser on them all, tearing through their ranks before they even had a chance to get their bearings.

But Ashley had to stand strong—for the colonists who looked to her for support, she was one of the few with a weapon, one of the few who had trained for moments like this.

One who was willing to sacrifice her life to give these colonists a chance to escape.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard, they're pinned down in that building over there!" Kaidan shouted, running into cover as close to the large force of geth that were amassing outside of the small metal shack which their sensors told them housed a large number of colonists.

"Damn, how are we going to take them down?" There were more than fifteen hostile geth outside of that building—and they had trouble taking just one down earlier. How they were going to manage was beyond Shepard.

"Well, we've got to try! If we don't, they're going to break through!"

Kaidan pulled his pistol from his hip as he climbed over his cover, firing bullets into the geth, desperately trying to get their attention. He dived behind another rock, launching geth into the air with his biotics as he glowed a faint blue. Shepard followed, running to a piece of metal debris lying on the ground, unloading rounds from his shotgun into anything that dared come close to Kaidan.

"You're damned crazy, Kaidan," Shepard muttered to himself. "I like it."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Listen!" Ashley shouted to the colonists. "Someone else is out there, fighting off the geth!"

"We've got to help them!" Nirali Bhatia, another one of the soldiers from Ashley's squad shouted back.

"We'll pin the geth down and give everyone else time to escape."

"On our signal," Nirali said to the colonists, "Run to the left, and keep running until you reach the Hope memorial. We've got soldiers holding that area down. You'll be safe with them."

Nirali waked up to Ashley, nodding her head. "Ready?"

"Let's do this," Ashley replied, unbarring the front door.

The door slid open with a screech as the deformed metal slid away, revealing the chaos of the battlefield once more. Their support had consisted of two men who seemed to be out of their minds, charging headlong into a geth squadron that outnumbered them seven to one. But it was their only chance.

Ashley brought her assault rifle to bear, firing into the backs of the geth that were pinning down the two men, trying to give them a chance to strike back. One of the geth to her left was suddenly launched backwards, its metal body slamming into the side of the metal cabin. These weren't just regular soldiers—that was a biotic if she had ever known one. And he was their only chance.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"They've opened the doors, Shepard! We have to make sure that we keep them focused on us—to give those colonists a chance to escape."

Kaidan launched another biotic push, falling back down under cover, breathing heavily. The biotic attacks were taking a toll on him, but he had to carry on. If he didn't, those colonist's lives were forfeit.

He turned to look at Shepard continuing to unload rounds into the geth with his shotgun, before he looked down at the weapon, and tossed it onto the ground beside him. Shepard reached around his shoulder, pulling the sniper rifle from his back, extending it and bringing it to bear. He quickly stood up, taking a bead on a nearby geth, and fired, the head falling apart on one of the machines, as it fell to the ground, dropping its weapon.

Kaidan smiled as he realized what he needed to be doing. The geth were useless once their optics failed, so he had to aim for the head.

He took a deep breath, cringing slightly as he lifted one of the geth into the air. As the machine floated in the air, he took aim and unloaded into its head. But it wasn't quite enough—Shepard's rifle had enough punch to shatter through the thick glass covering the optics, but Kaidan's light pistol rounds wouldn't have enough penetrating power. He was going to have to let Shepard take care of the killing. But Kaidan could be a damn good distraction—he just had to keep on firing.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Damnit, the geth are turning around!"

If the geth refocused their attention on the civilians, they weren't going to last much longer. The strangers were doing a good job of holding the geth off, but they weren't doing any significant damage to them. If they wanted to move, it had to be now. Ashley looked across at Nirali—she was likely thinking the same thing.

"Ashley," Nirali shouted. "On my signal, take the civilians and run!"

"What?" Ashley shouted back, not understanding how they were going to escape. Suddenly it dawned on her what Nirali had planned. "No! We can't—"

"We have to!" Nirali shouted back. "If we wait any longer, they'll attack us again!"

Ashley tried to grab the soldier's arm, but missed as Nirali ran opposite the direction they were supposed to extract, firing wildly at the geth.

"Let's move, people!" Ashley shouted, not going to waste the sacrifice that Nirali had made. The geth were distracted now by the crazed soldier launching grenades and firing deadly rounds amidst them. As they turned their attention away from the colonists, Ashley ran through the door, letting the colonists run behind her. She held her gun at the ready, but didn't fire—she knew that if she shot at the geth once more, they would turn and kill the colonists, as they decided that Ashley was the more significant threat.

There was nothing she could do to help her friend.

The last civilian escaped the room, dashing towards the extraction point. Ashley stood behind for a moment, giving Nirali a salute—the brave soldier who had saved nearly two scores of innocent civilians.

And Ashley watched as Nirali's shields flickered, power draining, before flashing in a great blue explosion. Her armor groaned under the impact of the bullets striking its surface, great sparks flying off the heavy metal pauldron. Blood began to flow from between the metal plates, as Nirali fell to her knees, still firing her assault rifle. The rifle, tip red hot, overheated, as she tossed it aside and pulled a pistol from her hip, still firing at the geth.

Ashley looked away, not wanting to see the brave woman's final moments. She had to get those civilians away from here.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"The colonists are out!" Shepard yelled over at Kaidan, who was breathing heavily behind the rock which he was still using as cover. Now that the colonists were out of the way, the geth had their full attention back on Shepard and Kaidan. The soldier who had run out occupied them for a short while, but she had now stopped firing, and was lying on the ground, blood pooling around her body.

"Kaidan?"

"I hear you," he shouted back, shooting his pistol over his shoulder, trying to slow down the geth offensive push.

The situation wasn't looking very good—but with the colonists out of the way, retreat was now an option. Shepard had only managed to take down three of the geth before his shields were knocked down, and they hadn't had time to fully recharge yet. Shepard strongly suspected that Kaidan's shields were also down, based on the blood running down his left arm.

"Anderson," Kaidan said as he spoke into his omni-tool. "The colonists were safely extracted, but we've still got a platoon of geth soldiers here. If we let them go, they might go after the colonists again."

"I'm sending backup," Anderson replied over the radio. "Jenkins is bringing a small squad to help you take them down."

"Alright, Shepard," Kaidan said. "We've just got to hold for a few minutes. As long as we can keep spraying them with bullets, they shouldn't try rushing us."

"What's stopping them?" Shepard asked back, as he quickly peeked over the top of his cover, firing a few pistol rounds in the general direction of one geth who had decided it would advance on Shepard.

"I don't know," Kaidan replied, throwing his pistol down to the ground as its thermal sink vented. "They don't feel pain, if they charged at us, we'd be forced to retreat."

"Let's hope they don't get any ideas," Shepard replied, as he watched his battery levels on his omni-tool. His shields would now be close to fully charged, enough time to take out another few geth with his sniper rifle. But then his shields would be down again, slowly waiting as they recharged once more. There wasn't time to be messing around—they needed to find and secure that Prothean beacon.

"Kaidan, keep them distracted!" Shepard shouted, as he tapped a few buttons on his omni-tool.

"What…? No, damnit, Shepard!" Kaidan shouted, as he realized what Shepard planned. "Jenkins is coming in to provide fire support in a minute!"

Despite Kaidan's protests, Shepard engaged his stealth module, quickly turning invisible. Tossing his sniper rifle to the side, he pulled his shotgun from his back once more, running towards a geth who was in the back with an assault rifle. Shepard had made it halfway when he saw the geth surrounding him abruptly turn their optics towards Shepard, staring straight at his cloaked body.

Before Shepard realized what had happened, he was standing amidst a hail of fire. The geth had seen through his cloaking module somehow, and were presently unloading their assault rifles into his already weakened shields. It wouldn't be long until those fell too, and his armor would provide little protection—it was similar to the armor of the marine lying dead on the ground, and it hadn't done much to help her out.

Shepard ducked and rolled behind a piece of metal scrap lying on the ground, lying down to keep out of the geth's sights.

"Shepard!" Kaidan shouted from afar, rapidly firing his assault rifle into the crowd of geth, trying to divert their attention, but it was of no use. They had found their target, the man who had already taken down three other geth platforms—a priority target. They closed in on him like a pack of wolves, firing into his cover, keeping him from making any kind of offensive maneuver.

Shepard saw the telltale gleam of a geth body enter his vision, bringing its rifle to bear on Shepard.

His shields absorbed the first bullet, and the second, the third causing his shields to brightly flicker and then flash, the slowed bullet bouncing off of his shoulder plate. The next wasn't hindered like the last. Another bullet flew into Shepard's right arm, sliding along the armor and through one of the joints, slamming heavily into his elbow. The next followed closely behind, tearing through his shoulder.

"Raaaaah!"

Down the hill near Shepard, Jenkins came charging in, his assault rifle in one hand and a grenade in the other. The geth firing at Shepard spun to face the new threat, firing at Jenkins.

Shepard lifted his arm, bloody and burning as if it were on fire, watching as Jenkins ran up to a nearby geth, shoving the grenade into its chestplate before dancing away, the geth blowing to pieces.

"Run, Shepard!" Jenkins shouted, as he unloaded his assault rifle into the optics of a nearby geth, the high powered rounds of his heavily modified Avenger slamming through the bulletproof glass, disabling another of the geth.

Shepard stood up, lifting himself on his good arm. Shepard tried to grab for his shotgun, but his arm wouldn't extend, protesting with another bout of pain and agony spearing its way through Shepard's shoulder. He gritted his teeth, grabbing his pistol using his left hand. Jenkins was going to die if he couldn't do anything to help.

The young soldier, so skilled and talented for his age, ran through the geth as if they were merely tall weeds. One of them slammed his assault rifle from his hands, and Jenkins, following through as if it were rehearsed, grabbed onto his shotgun with two hands and swung it into the geth's head, leaving a considerable dent as it's optics shattered and flickered out of existence.

Shepard fired at the geth pitifully, trying to do some damage, but the rounds wouldn't be strong enough. Kaidan had proved it already—without stronger rounds, Shepard's pistol was useless. But he couldn't stand there and let his friend die.

His friend. Damnit, it was happening again. Shepard had let down his guard, had become too attached, and here he was, losing them all over again. But maybe he could go down with him; perhaps he could finally redeem himself. He took a step towards Jenkins when suddenly a strong arm reached around Shepard's stomach, lifting him up.

"Damnit, what the hell are you doing, Shepard?" Kaidan shouted, as he picked the sturdy man up, carrying him away from the battlefield.

"But… Jenkins…"

"He's fine!" Kaidan shouted.

Shepard looked back at Jenkins, still wildly firing bullets into the geth from all directions. But he was losing steam—he couldn't keep it up much longer. His shields quickly flickered, flaring up before silently dying; Jenkins' combat armor trying to hold together underneath the pummeling of bullets that he was receiving.

A geth armed with an assault rifle approached Jenkins as he fired, but the young man spun around and punched it in the face, knocking it to the ground. Another geth approached him from behind with a shotgun, shoving the barrel into Jenkins' back as he fired a round through the man's spine. Blood sprayed out of Jerkins' stomach, the soldier falling to his knees as he tried to fight the geth. But even as his support arrived, firing high powered sniper rifle rounds into the geth, the fight was already almost over, Jenkins having killed more than half of the geth in his mad dash.

The mad dash in which he had sacrificed his life to save Shepard's.

"Jenkins!" Shepard shouted, as he watched the man fall onto his side, a terrible hole torn through the back of his combat armor.

Kaidan roughly threw Shepard down on the ground, pain spiking through Shepard's body as the wound in his arm throbbed.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Kaidan yelled, a fury in his voice that Shepard had never seen. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Shepard breathlessly shook his head at Kaidan, not able to find words to put into his mouth.

"Damnit, Shepard! Why the hell did you run off like that? I told you that reinforcements were coming!"

"I… I…"

"That's the second time we've had to pull your ass out of the fire because you were being a dumbass, and this time, Jenkins paid his god damned life for it!"

It was his fault. It had always been his fault… back on Akuze, he had led his squad into that trap. And here, he had led Jenkins to his demise.

Kaidan turned around, putting his face into his hands as he growled in anger. He grabbed his pistol from his holster, throwing it onto the ground, shattering into pieces.

"Damnit, Shepard. When will you wake up and realize it's not just you that matters?"

Kaidan sighed, and turned around, walking away from Shepard. But it didn't matter where he was going.

Shepard had let down another friend.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Any questions, comments, pet-peeves, suggestions, or anything else?

Leave a comment, write a review, or send me an email.

I'm currently trying to put a chapter out every three days. I'll do my best to keep to that schedule!


	6. Bones

**:: Chapter Six :: **Bones **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_His ruby eyes surveyed me,_

_His haggard haunch was raised._

_Rearing up his splintered paw,_

_He struck me in a daze._

_And with his jaws jarred open,_

_He tore me on the floor._

_As lonely bones forgotten now,_

_I lay here evermore._

_-Be'lakor-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Let's hope this is the place," Wrex muttered to himself gruffly as he lifted himself out of the swampy waters surrounding the heavy concrete bunker.

The last week had been what the humans called a 'wild goose chase' for Wrex. He had initially thought to find his target, a man named Victor, hiding inside one of the mansions inside of the colony which he had visited earlier. After breaking into one house, with a terrified couple spouting out every detail of their private lives in an attempt to coax Wrex to spare them, he had visited another house to find Victor annoyingly not present. What he had found, however, was a locked computer terminal in the back of his house. Unluckily for Victor, Wrex happened to carry around a program on his omni-tool which was able to hack through most simple terminals and locks—which sufficed on Victor's simple computer.

What he had found wasn't a definite location, but rather a series of enterprises. He was the owner of a bar and grill on the colony which he was currently on, another bar on the Citadel, and also a military training facility.

The bar had been a letdown—the waitresses hadn't even bothered to try and take Wrex's orders, and they were certainly giving him some funny looks. Wrex certainly hadn't planned on tipping them well—but of course, he wasn't there to eat. The whole restaurant quieted down pretty fast upon the massive, well-armed krogan stepping foot into the establishment, and were prepared to let Wrex do whatever he wanted.

Sadly for Wrex, even after giving himself a private tour of the kitchens and private offices, Victor was nowhere to be found. He knew what the man looked like, but it was possible he could be in disguise somewhere, and Wrex was just making an ass out of himself. Well, either way—if he did some damage here, maybe if he stole some weapons or killed a few guards, he could coax the man out of hiding. Or maybe he would be here—after all, a heavily fortified concrete bunker seemed like a good place to be if an eight foot tall krogan is coming for you.

But first was the problem of getting inside. As far as Wrex could tell, the whole building was fairly solid—no windows or viewports, and the doors were made of a very heavy steel which looked impenetrable.

At least it looked impenetrable, Wrex thought as a smile came to his face. He pulled three grenade out from his armor, and tossed them into the bottom corner of the door as he took a few steps back. Tapping a button on his omni-tool, the combined blast of the grenades shook the ground as the door crumpled and flew into the complex, proving to be much weaker than it first appeared.

A red siren began to sound from inside of the bunker—an annoying whine that would probably attract some kind of attention—but as long as he could sweep through the bunker quickly enough, it wasn't a huge issue. Wrex lifted his shotgun from his hip, freely swinging it on his hand. As he stepped around the corner, a guard with an assault rifle was running towards him, skidding to a stop, while Wrex, without missing a beat, lifted his shotgun and shot him square in the chest, propelling the guard backwards a few feet as he fell.

Two more guards tried to stand in his way as he rounded the next bend, but they received very similar treatment, Wrex calmly walking forwards whilst unloading shotgun rounds into the men who tried to stand in his way.

It was a fairly small building from the inside—it seems that most of its purpose came from looking tough and not actually being tough.

As he rounded another corner, this time into a large chamber which had a few weapons racks leaned up against the walls, as well as a couple of training targets which were riddled with holes. Apparently the men had good aim—not that it was really needed against a massive krogan, but Wrex had one thing going for him that the target didn't have—he wasn't made of stiff foam.

Wrex stepped into the middle of the room as five soldiers began to pour in through a door on the opposite side of the room. Wrex shot one down as he entered, his companions pushing his body aside in an attempt to make it behind cover before Wrex killed them all. Despite all of the fire that they were sending his way, Wrex's shields were holding strong, casually bouncing the bullets which made their way to him. Wrex lifted a hand, biotically lifting one of the soldiers out from behind cover, shooting at his floating body. He fired another shot at a desk that one of the men was hiding behind, the high powered rounds from his shotgun cutting through the desk as if it weren't there, the man grunting in surprise as he was struck with the heavy blow.

The two that remained obviously didn't plan on doing so for long as they turned tail and fled, heading towards the door which they had come in from. As the two neared the door, Wrex lifted a hand, and using his biotics, pushed the one man into the other, slamming them both into a nearby wall, where they fell into a heap, dazed from the impact. As Wrex walked towards the open door, he casually swung his shotgun towards them, firing a shot to end both their lives.

He stepped into the room, what looked to be a small office, with a few stacks of books on each side of the room as well as a terminal located in the center. To Wrex's dismay, nobody was to be found. He stepped over to the terminal, prepared to launch his hacking protocols when a message popped up on the screen.

"Better luck next time!"

"Damn humans," Wrex muttered to himself, shaking his head.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard, come in?" Anderson's voice rang out from his omni-tool.

Shepard hesitated a moment before responding. "Yes, Sir?"

"We've located strange energy emissions coming from a warehouse close to your position. Head in and make sure that the obelisk is safe—I'm sending a few more men over to secure it for pickup."

A hologram appeared above Shepard's wrist, a faintly blinking light indicating where the beacon would be. "Alright, Captain," Shepard responded, slowly standing up from the spot where Kaidan had thrown him down over ten minutes ago. Shepard still didn't know what to say—Jenkins' sacrifice had come as a surprise to him. He hadn't expected such a heroic action from him—or anyone, in particular—but even though Shepard was still alive, the bitter taste wouldn't leave his mouth.

_It was always my fault,_ Shepard thought to himself again, as he began walking towards the warehouse where he would find the beacon. Back on Akuze, it was his own damned recklessness that had made him send his squad charging into the middle of a trap. It was his recklessness that had claimed eight lives on Akuze, and one more today.

_Never again,_ Shepard said, silently vowing to himself never to leave another friend behind—even if it killed him.

The warehouse was nearby—a large, tall metal building, similar to the style of most the other buildings on the planet. Shepard quickly typed a few phrases into the console—the security commands that Anderson had forwarded him—and the door slid open with barely a hiss. In the middle of the room stood a long, metal spire—but not like the ones that had held husks on them. This one was different, somehow. It was more elegant, more ornate, in a way, faintly glowing green. It was beautiful in a way, Shepard thought, as he slowly approached it.

It was quite a sight, Shepard thought. Its polished edges, faintly gleaming, green lines of power surging across its surface.

He put a hand up to it, gently brushing the surface, as suddenly his body stiffened, when what felt like a thousand volts surging through his body lifted him into the air, a sudden howl of wind deafening him. Pain spiked through every nerve in his brain, pulsing higher with every second until Shepard felt as if his head was being torn into pieces.

Shepard's eyes were wrenched open by some unknown force, forcing him to stare into the terrible images that were depicted in front of him.

Shepard watched as he saw soldiers, bravely standing and firing rounds into an unknown enemy, when a beam of fire swept across them, leaving their charred bodies falling to the ground. Crows flew from the sky, picking flesh from the dead soldiers. His vision flashed, a vision of children being slaughtered coming into focus, cruel men with wicked swords swinging their blades, blood splattering the walls and pooling on the floor, as a child's head rolled towards Shepard.

He watched as planets burned, dissolving under a rain of fire. The stars exploded, and nothing was left to survive. A terrible creature with four glowing eyes came into focus, a giant construct composed of purple colored metal, and as it opened its maw, a great ruby lance fired from it's mouth, sweeping towards Shepard.

And then there was black.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The Citadel. The seat of modern civilization, the highest pinnacle of technology and governance in the entire galaxy… and Tali's people had no place in it. Nowhere were Tali's people aloud, she bitterly thought. Even despite the beauty of the great flower-like structure, Tali couldn't keep thoughts like those from passing through her mind. After seeing the true evil underneath Illium's spic and span surface, Tali could only guess as to what was hidden beneath the beautiful surface of the Citadel.

Tali sighed, looked down at the small, square hard drive that he was rolling around in her hands. During her ride, she had connected it to her omni-tool and extracted the data, hoping that the data would be a hint to geth operating protocols or software that would give her something great to send back to her Father, or maybe even as a Pilgrimage gift—but she would still keep looking, because what she had found was nothing close to what she had expected.

Recorded on the disk were battle plans of some sort, which were transmitted to all geth using the same transmission frequency as the one that Tali had destroyed. She had looked through most of the plans during her flight—as she had little else to do during her trip—and from what she could tell, a man named Saren was planning on arranging a geth army to capture the Citadel through something called the Conduit. There were heavily detailed plans of battle and even dates located in the near future, but as time progressed, there was significantly less detail—likely only the necessary detailed required was provided to the geth at this point. The attacks were just beginning—just yesterday, the first strike upon Eden Prime was supposed to have occurred, Saren clearing out the active military forces on the planet with "Sovereign"—which she still was unsure of—and then landing forty-seven geth platoons in key areas across the colony. Another operative of his, a man named Nihlus, was to lure the Normandy—an Alliance vessel—onto the planet, and then disable it, allowing Saren to capture it.

It was a brilliant plan—and Tali had no doubts of its success. A strike like that, against a colony so far away from the rest of "civil space"… there would be no support, and the forces of one ship wouldn't be able to take down the geth. The colony would be lost, and then they would strike elsewhere, Noveria, Feros, Therum… the plans were all here, but the motives weren't. Whatever Saren was planning was still a mystery, but if he planned to unseat the galactic government at the heart of civilization… It couldn't be a good thing—not for the humans, the asari, and not for the quarians—even despite their separation from the rest of society.

The shuttle was docking now, though. She could feel the slight jittering and bouncing of the craft as it maneuvered its way into the docking bay, as they usually did. Tali quickly grabbed her belongings—now consisting of a hard drive and her hologram of her family—and stood up, ready to leave the cramped quarters. The few other passengers had given her strange looks from time to time, particularly the pilot, but she had stayed true to her word—she hadn't caused any trouble, she hadn't stolen anything, and she had paid her fare.

The interior door of the shuttle opened to the airlock, as Tali stood idly as the decontamination beams passed over her and the rest of the shuttle. Finally, the outer door opened as well, the artificial light filtering into the shuttle.

Tali stepped out onto the Citadel, taking a deep breath as she admired her surroundings. It was like Illium all over again, the beautiful sights and sounds, almost overcoming Tali, but this time, she didn't even smile. Her naivety gone, she was ready for whatever abuse was going to be thrown at her.

But to her surprise, and slight admiration, as she walked down the docking bay and towards the market district, nobody had really noticed her. There were no sneer, no backhanded comments, no pushes and shoves—so far, it was almost as if she were just another person. Perhaps Illium had just been a bad start—maybe the galaxy wasn't quite as bad as she had truly come to believe.

For a while, just a few minutes, maybe Tali could forget about her problems. Perhaps she could just enjoy herself, forgetting about her pilgrimage, forgetting about the disturbing data that she had found.

She walked around the market stalls, aware that she barely had twenty credits to her name, but still just enjoying the feeling of fitting in, of belonging, something that felt satisfying and rewarding after her experiences on Illium. Over in one market stall, there was a merchant who was selling omni-tool software, and in another store, she saw a glass tank of some sort that was filled with water. Upon closer observation, she could see little colorful shapes floating about, skirting to and fro, happily gliding through the water. "Fish," Tali read to herself, having never seen the strange creatures before.

It was like a dream for Tali—like the ones she had back on Fleet. The beautiful galaxy, with kind people, tempting wares, and boundless possibilities. Tali closed her eyes, and lifted her hands above her hand, stretching her back, happily smiling.

Then a gunshot fired from somewhere in the distance. Tali heard someone scream, a young girl, a voice full of innocence and naivety. Her own voice.

The bullet flew through Tali's arm, slamming into the bones in her upper arm, cracking them upon impact. She had let her shields down, and worse—she had let her guard down. In the moment that she thought she was safe, she had been attacked.

Still in shock and reeling in pain from the wound, Tali ran—in any direction, it didn't matter, as long as it was away from here. She felt blood pulsing through her brain, losing focus as the wound throbbed and dripped blood from her elbow. She could barely move her arm, the subtle jostling of running sending pain through her body as her vision flickered in and out.

She saw a turian wearing armor and carrying a rifle at his side—a police officer of some sort, by his badge. She ran up to the man, trying to speak through the terror and tears in her voice.

"Help me!" She shouted, sobbing through the pain.

The man roughly shoved Tali onto the ground, shouting back at her. "Get away from here, suit-rat!"

Tali looked up at the turian who was glaring down at her, tears flowing from her eyes. _I'm going to die here,_ Tali thought, as the pain spiked through her body once more, the only thing keeping her awake being the automated chemical dispersion in her suit which pumped her system full of stimulants and antibiotics after being shot.

Tali crawled away from the turian, staring back at his hateful glare, as she tried to stand up using her other arm. She turned and ran from the officer, not knowing where to go. But she had to do something—without help, the assassin would return—and kill Tali. Suddenly, Tali remembered the data that she had found—data that would be very useful to the people living on the Citadel. Tali spotted another C-Sec officer, another turian, and ran to him.

"Please help me, somebody shot me, and I have valuable data that shows that the Citadel is in danger!"

"Get out of here!" The turian shouted back at Tali, waving his assault rifle threateningly at Tali. Tears began to flow down Tali's face once more. Now she was really going to die. Nobody cared about her, nobody wanted to help her, and she was going to die.

Tali began to sob once more as she ran away from the turian, trying to find some place to run to that she might be safe. Anywhere at all—but there wasn't anywhere she could go, there was nobody she could turn to. A hand appeared on her shoulder—this was it. She was going to die—the man was going to slice her throat open, or shoot her, or break her mask—and she was going to die.

The hand spun her around, looking into the eyes of another turian—but he wasn't a C-Sec officer.

"The Shadow Broker is interested in your data. Meet him behind Chora's Den in three hours."

"But… but…"

"Fear not," he calmly replied, staring deep into Tali's eyes, even through the mask. "The Shadow Broker will protect you," he said, as he put a small packet of medi-gel into Tali's hands. "Stay safe."

The turian walked away, disappearing behind a market vendor. The tears still flowed down her face, but she now stood still, looking around her. Shaking sobs still wracked her body every few seconds, but she now had medi-gel and an unknown benefactor. Tali put the packet of medi-gel into a slot in her suit which would disperse it and cover up the wound, stopping the bleeding. She needed to find a doctor—but as long as she stopped bleeding, she would survive. She turned her shields back up, sitting down on the ground in a corner, hugging her knees with her good arm.

She didn't know who the Shadow Broker was, or how he knew that he wanted Tali's data, but she had nowhere else to turn. Nobody else would help her—not even the police. If the Shadow Broker could provide medical aid, and maybe protection… it was worth it.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

_Grey, heavy clouds hung in the sky above Shepard's head, dark masses of blackness masking the stars and the moon above. Shepard stood upon a lush, grassy field, even in the darkness, the faint green of the blades glittering when a ray of light struck the fragile leaves. A gentle chirping could be heard in the distance, perhaps the sound of a cricket, its voice being carried by the wind._

_Rain began to fall from the sky, the dark clouds slowly dropping their loads upon Shepard, the rain slowly picking up as Shepard stood there, staring at the sky, listening to the tranquil sounds of crickets and the rain softly pattering against his shoulder plates._

_Before him was suddenly a great, black lake, extending off into the distance that even Shepard could not see beyond the rolling fog that hung ominously over the dark waters. An eerie silence filled the air, as the air grew thick with tension and fear, the dark waters slowly rippling. A hand extended from the water, a blood-red gauntlet covering it, stained with the murk and grime from the dark waters._

_A head followed, and then a body, a dark red helmet, a dark red chestplate, and a marksman ribbon attached to the left breast. His hand reached for his helmet, slowly pulling it off, revealing the unblemished face of a man Shepard once knew. His golden-colored hair—hair Winston had been so proud of in life—fell down to his shoulders._

"_Shepard," he said, a whisper escaping his lips. A cruel smile made its way across his face. "You abandoned us… you left us to die."_

"_I… I had no choice!" Shepard shouted back at the man, shaking his head. _

"_You did this to us!" Winston yelled and jumped forward, grappling onto Shepard's shoulders as he pushed him onto the ground. Shepard stared into the man's hazel eyes as he watched them turn blood red, as he watched his mouth being torn open, blood dripping from his face onto Shepard's chest._

"_It was your fault!" The man's skin began to peel back, revealing the bone and muscles hidden underneath. As his skin fell away, he lifted a hand, claws sprouting out of his hands, as his muscles tensed, prepared to swing._

_Gunfire erupted from behind Shepard, the mass accelerator rounds slamming into the creature's face, knocking him off of Shepard. It rolled back to its knees, looking at Shepard with baleful eyes as its bones crumbled into dust, blowing away with the wind, back across the black lake from which it had risen._

_A hand was extended in front of him—Kaidan's hand. Shepard grabbed onto it, as the strong man pulled him back to his feet, slapping a pistol into his hands. Kaidan turned around, smiling, as he nodded his head towards Jenkins, who walked up to Shepard as well, a goofy grin on his face. _

_The ground began to rumble as the skies turned red, geysers of blood spewing from the black lake. A giant machine filled the sky, lowering itself down above Shepard. A hole slid open in the middle of the great ship, ruby light filling the gap, as a beam of white heat shone down upon them, burning the skin from their bodies, charring their armor, leaving behind a pile of burning bones upon the lush, green grass._

Shepard sat up rapidly, instantly regretting it. A brief, but intense sharp pain seared through his body, making his vision flash and his head reel. Shepard groaned, both from the real pain he felt, and from the dream which he had just experienced.

"Shepard, you're awake."

It was a voice that he hadn't heard before… where was he? The last thing he remembered seeing was children being slaughtered on Eden Prime… or was that a dream as well? Or was it fighting the geth, trying to save the colonists?

Then it came back to him—the Prothean beacon, Nihlus' betrayal… and Jenkins' sacrifice. All the events of that day came rushing back into him in a moment, overpowering Shepard's mind as he sorted through everything that had happened, and between mere dream and reality.

"How are you feeling?" came the voice again, this time slightly less surprised. Shepard opened his eyes, looking around him, taking in his surroundings as he had been taught to do so many years ago in basic training. Small cabin, metal walls, slight variations in motion indicating that they were likely on a ship, medical supplies indicating that this was likely a medical bay of some sort. Perhaps it was the Normandy's? Shepard wasn't sure—he had never visited the med bay before.

"I'm… ok." Shepard responded, swinging his feet over to the side of the bed which he was lying on, being careful not to apply too much pressure to his wounded right arm. "Where am I?"

"You're back on the Normandy," a woman replied, the same one which had been speaking to him earlier. In fact, she was the only person inside of this small cabin. "That bullet through your arm needed treatment—not to mention the rest of you after that beacon shattered."

"Shattered?" Shepard asked, still unsure of what had exactly happened to him. All he remembered was reaching his hand towards the metal obelisk… and then he had his visions—the images were still so distinct in his mind—he could almost taste the blood in the air.

"Yes," the woman replied back to him. "Shattered. Nobody knows the exact details, but when they sent soldiers in to prepare the beacon for pickup, they found you lying on the ground, with scraps of metal all over the warehouse. I had to dig at least three pieces out of your face," she added, trying to emphasize the full extent of the damage.

Shepard shook his head, only imagining what he might now look like with the long gashes from where the husk had clawed at him, and from the shattered pieces of metal. But that was of secondary importance right now—the visions that he had seen were strange, even compared to what Shepard normally suffered—between their cruelty, their brutality, and the way that they still stuck in Shepard's mind, even hours after the event. At least, Shepard assumed it had only been a few hours.

"How long have I been asleep for?"

"About three days," the woman replied, as Shepard almost choked when he realized how long he had been unconscious for. "I've had you in here for the whole time—it wasn't a regular coma or just unconsciousness—your brain activity was off the charts for the entire time, right until you woke up a few minutes ago. What happened when you touched that beacon?"

Shepard slowly shook his head, trying to will the memories back into his head. "When I touched it… it felt like an electric shock. Like a thousand volts coursing through my veins. And then I saw…" Shepard was reluctant to speak—the visions weren't sitting well with Shepard's stomach—even as a grizzled war veteran, there were some sights that could make a krogan queasy. "I saw children being slaughtered, and I saw planets being burned by great machines with red lasers."

"Do you typically have dreams or visions like that?"

"No… well, not quite similar to that," Shepard began. When he saw that the woman was waiting for him to elaborate, he continued. "Since I… I lost most of my squad, I've had dreams of them… accusing me. Haunting me, so to speak," Shepard said with a weak smile. "But never anything like the visions I had when I touched the beacon. Nothing that felt… so real."

The woman nodded, accepting what Shepard was saying without any visible signs of disbelief. "It could be the Protheans sending you a message," the woman responded.

Shepard merely nodded back at her. After a short silence, he spoke again. "Where are we going?"

"We're heading to the Citadel, to present the findings from the Prothean beacon, as well as Nihlus' and Saren's betrayals to the Council. Anderson plans on getting the other races involved to fight against the geth."

"When are we going to arrive?"

"In the next few hours," she replied back. "We've been en route ever since we left Eden Prime—so it's a good thing that you woke up when you did. I'm sure that Anderson will want to use you as 'evidence' of some sort."

Shepard began to stand up when the woman stopped him with an outstretched hand. "Now, before you go, I have to make sure you don't go out and kill yourself. Try not to jostle your right arm too badly—it's going to need time to heal up properly. Also, try not to go too heavy on the pain meds—they might help with the pain, but it'll be even worse once you have to stop taking them."

Shepard listened as the woman continued to give him safety tips and other advice on how not to hurt himself any further, patiently waiting while he contemplated what was going to happen next. More likely than not, Anderson was likely going to push for either Kaidan or Shepard as a Spectre, using their performance on Eden Prime as a basis for that advancement. They would try to have Saren arrested, based on the circumstantial evidence that they had found tying him to everything—but that was a problem. They only held circumstantial evidence—nothing hard, nothing that proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Saren was a part of this scheme. But it was worth a try, if nothing else.

"…And try not to touch any artifacts older than humanity, next time, ok?" the woman finished, a small smile on her face. "Take care, Shepard."

"Thanks, Doctor…"

"Karin Chakwas. At your service," she said, with a small bow.

* * *

As usual, thanks for reading!

Hopefully these haven't been too error-filled for you guys yet. I've been writing, editing once, uploading, and then editing once more, updating the story after I make my final edit. If you see any errors in grammar, spelling, or just choppy writing in general, please let me know in a review or you can send me an email (located on my bio, since I can't seem to type it here).

If you enjoyed this, I would really appreciate it if you could provide some constructive criticism. I haven't written for quite a while, and as much as I love the Mass Effect series, sometimes I worry that I'm not doing it justice with my particular writing style.

Also, how are the chapter lengths working out? I've been trying to average around 3,500 words per chapter (some of them stretching to around 5,000), but I feel the need to rise up to my FanFiction hero (Tairis Deamhan, writer of Razor's Edge) and make my chapters close to 6,000 words. Do you prefer shorter and more plentiful, or longer and rarer? Or do you have no preference whatsoever? Let me know!

Thanks again, and stay tuned. I hope to finally start getting the ball rolling as our good ol' friends start entering the scene.


	7. Regrets

As always, thanks for taking the time to read what I hope has been an interesting story thus far! I'm going to put these random announcements at the front of this chapter, for the sake of preserving tone towards the end of the chapter.

This was my first attempt at making a chapter longer than 4,000 words, and I managed to make it around 7,200. Not that it's any more difficult-it just takes longer.

With that in mind, I'm not quite certain how the release schedule is going to work. I have most of the next chapter complete, and if I have it finished, I'll try to have it up in another three days, but a combination of flu and personal matters has made writing difficult as of today.

Anyways, if you have any comments, questions, concerns, or fixes for my writing, please send me a PM, leave a review, or send me an email (my email is located on my bio).

Thanks again! Enjoy the rest of your day/week/month/year/life!

* * *

**:: Chapter Seven ::** Regrets **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_She sits where her childhood memories lie,_

_Above, beside, within them,_

_The carvings have outlived the hand_

_Which bled to first begin them._

_As features of the landscape merge,_

_The oldest trees are falling._

_Awareness sleeps the view aside,_

_She stares as if recalling._

_The windswept valley hastens now_

_As dying words are uttered._

_From lips of earth and sapling's strain,_

_Like leaves, her last thoughts fluttered._

_-Be'lakor-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Dropping FTL in just a few minutes, Captain," Joker said as he looked over his shoulder, back towards the team which was assembled in front of the airlock. "ETA for the Citadel is around five minutes."

"Alright, Joker," Anderson responded. "Get us in near the Presidium if they'll let us. We need to see the Council." Anderson looked towards Shepard, and quietly added "We'll have a lot to be telling them."

Their team consisted of Anderson, Shepard and Kaidan—the highest ranked soldiers who were present on the mission on Eden Prime, which made their opinions more valuable. Furthermore, Shepard and Kaidan were the ones who had noted Saren's involvement twice now, and had directly seen Nihlus' betrayal—making them the best sources of information on the matter.

Shepard had told Anderson about the visions he had witnessed—based on Dr. Chakwas' belief that they were out of the ordinary—but Anderson had told him that it would likely be better not to bring it up. The Council wouldn't put any stake on dreams, Anderson had told him. Their case was likely stronger without mentioning it.

Also tagging along with them was a few marines from Eden Prime. Most of them were injured, and while Dr. Chakwas had provided them with the necessary care, a real hospital was what was needed. There were only four that they had picked up, two wearing navy blue combat uniforms, one wearing a set of silver colored combat armor, and the final wearing a heavier set of pink-and-white battle armor—an interesting color combination which Shepard didn't quite understand. As soon as they dropped off the marines, they would be on their way to the Council.

"We're about to dock, Captain," Joker called out from his seat. "Airlock is open."

Anderson nodded back to the pilot as the interior airlock door slid open. As the crew stepped in, the doors closed and the decontamination protocols activated as they always did, running a beam across the crew as it killed any bacteria in the air and across their armor.

"Have you been to the Citadel before, boys?" Anderson asked, a small smile on his face as he looked over at Kaidan and Shepard as they both shook their heads. "It's certainly a sight to see before you die," he said, before cringing slightly as he realized the insensitivity of his words, considering Jenkins' recent death. Shepard had notice the small tic almost instantaneously, the slight falter in the man's visage—but he didn't speak of it.

The heavy outer airlock door slid open as well, a gust of air blowing in from outside of the ship. The group stepped out, stunned by the sheer size of the structure which they were on.

The Citadel was massive—it felt even larger than a planet—perhaps due to the fact that most of the Citadel could be seen at any given time. From where they stood near the center of the flower-shaped arrangement of wings, they had a clear view of the other petals which extended off into the distance, extending so far that the skyscrapers which were thousands of meters tall simply disappeared, merely a small speck contributing to the shimmering beauty of the colossal structure.

"It's quite a sight," Kaidan said, seemingly to himself. He hadn't spoken until just now—he had barely even looked Shepard in the eyes. Where he stood in regards to the events of Eden Prime was unbeknownst to Shepard—and he didn't want to press the matter. Kaidan had every right to be upset with Shepard—he had been stupid, and dumb, and he had killed Jenkins. Shepard half expected Kaidan never to speak with Shepard again, but he knew—and subconsciously hoped—that the man would come back around.

"Come on, boys," Anderson said, putting a hand on their shoulders. "We've got some soldiers to drop off at the hospital."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"We've got her."

Garrus could imagine Fist's cruel smile donning his face right now, even if he couldn't see him from his hiding spot in the adjacent room.

"Perfect," Fist said, as he paced around the room. "How did you kill her?"

"I haven't," Markus replied, not seeming worried.

"What do you mean, you haven't?" Fist asked, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice.

"The good-for-nothing assassin I hired missed the damn girl. Got her running for cover, though. Lucky for him, I paid off all the officers in the district, so nobody helped her."

"So...?" Fist asked, apparently not seeing where Markus was going with his plan.

"So," Markus said, stressing his voice so as to tell Fist to be patient. "I sent another agent after her—he gave her some medi-gel and told her that the Shadow Broker would be willing to provide protection."

Garrus suspected that wolfish smile adorned Fist's face once more. "And then we kill her."

"That we do. She'll be out behind our bar in just a couple of hours."

"That long?" Fist said, the displeasure apparent in his voice. "Why not sooner?"

"Patience, Victor—"

"Don't ever call me by that name." A slight shuffling indicated that Fist—or Victor, as Garrus had just heard—had leaned over his desk.

"And don't you ever touch me again," Markus said, his voice as sharp as broken glass. "The girl will be dealt with."

Fist sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "And I presume you've taken all precautions? She isn't going to leak that data?"

"I've got someone watching her," Markus said, his regular tone of voice returning. "As for C-Sec... they're all paid off."

_This officer isn't_, Garrus thought as they continued to talk. He would forward his audio recording to Karrok—this was irrefutable evidence of their guilt. After this, Karrok had to let him take down these men.

"And threatened," Fist added with a deep, throaty laugh. "I'm sure that Karrok is so busy being scared shitless that he hasn't even noticed what we've been doing."

"Do you think it's time to 'reaffirm' our deal?" Markus asked with a cruel edge to his voice.

"I'm sure he still fully remembers the 'accident' his daughter had," Fist said with a laugh.

_These bastards are going to die_, Garrus thought to himself as he realized Karrok's reluctance to make a move against Markus. It wasn't politics or lawyers, it was for his daughter. He remembered the accident in question—a few months ago, Karrok's daughter had gotten into a skycar accident, and was crippled from the waist down. She had always been so perky, so happy... and it had been these assholes that ended it. They would suffer.

"Take care of it, Markus," Fist said somewhat dismissively. "I expect that girl to be dead by tonight."

"And I expect half of Saren's funds to be in my account by tonight," Markus shot back at him.

Saren? The Spectre, Saren? Were these criminals threatening him too? Whatever was happening, if he could take out these two, he would be toppling one hell of an undercover crime op. But Karrok couldn't have anything to do with it—if Markus or Fist found anything connecting him to this, his daughter's life may as well be forfeit. And probably his wife, too. There was more at stake than justice, here.

But he couldn't let Markus get away with killing another innocent person. He would wait out behind the bar, and stop Markus as soon as he could. That bastard would feel a bullet through his face soon. Very soon.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Just tell them what you know," Anderson coached Shepard and Kaidan as they approached the large, ornate archway which led to the Citadel Tower, a tall structure which protruded from the centre of the Citadel where the Council resided.

"Don't try to stretch the truth—it'll only come back to bite us later."

Kaidan and Shepard both nodded to Anderson, trusting in the man's knowledge. It wasn't his first rodeo, as the saying went, and he certainly knew a lot more about galactic governance than either Shepard or Kaidan did.

Inside of the Citadel Tower was a great, tall hall, with a grand staircase that led up to a raised platform which was most likely where they were heading. The whole building was lit with a reddish light, perhaps to add to the ambience of greatness that resounded through the whole structure. There were a few fountains carefully strewn throughout the building, as well as a number of flower beds. A few people meandered around, a few turians, a couple salarians—the first time Shepard had ever seen one of the strange creatures—as well as one heavily armored human who was rapidly typing on a computer terminal. As they ascended the long flight of stairs, a trio of raised platforms could be seen with an ornately dressed turian, an asari, and a salarian. Presumably, this was the reputed Council which governed the galaxy as Shepard knew it.

"Councillors," Anderson said, as he stepped up to a raised dais in front of the three councillors. His voice boomed with authority, echoing throughout the chamber.

"Captain Anderson," the asari councillor responded with some familiarity. "What is it that brings you before us today?"

"As you are aware of, we located a Prothean obelisk on the human colony of Eden Prime," Anderson began, the colonists nodding at what he said. "Upon arriving at the planet, we found that it was being attacked..." Anderson paused dramatically for added impact. "By the geth."

The chamber grew silent as even the bystanders stopped mid sentence upon hearing the man's declaration.

"The geth?" the turian councillor said incredulously. "What would geth be doing back in Council space?"

"We don't know," Anderson replied, "but what we do know is that they must be stopped. They've slaughtered our civilians, torn through our military forces... but they aren't acting alone." Anderson nodded to Kaidan, who began to speak.

"While hunting down Bartok, a pirate who has been raiding Alliance vessels in lower Council space for the last few years, he admitted working with Saren before his death."

"Saren?" the salarian councillor spoke up. "But he's our top operative—and besides, we can't deal judgement based on the word of a pirate."

"And even if it were true," the asari councillor said, "How does this tie Saren to the geth attack?"

"During our mission on Eden Prime, Nihlus attacked us, claiming that Saren's plans needed us out of the picture," Shepard said, stepping forward.

"Nihlus? The Spectre which we sent to oversee your Spectre candidacy, Lieutenant Shepard?" the turian councillor said, an almost sarcastic edge to his voice. Shepard hadn't been introduced yet—but apparently it wasn't necessary, as they seemed to know very well who he was.

"Yes," Shepard said, not liking the tone of the councillor's voice. "Your Spectre tried to kill us."

Anderson put a hand on Shepard's shoulder, trying to stop him from getting any angrier.

"It is undeniable," Anderson said, trying to support Shepard. "He attacked Shepard and Kaidan after they were dispatched to search for the Prothean artifact."

"And what happened to this artifact, Captain?" the turian councillor speaking again, the same condescending tone in his voice.

"It was destroyed," Anderson bluntly said.

"By the geth?"

"No," Anderson replied, hesitating for a moment.

"I broke it," Shepard admitted, stepping forward. "I discovered the obelisk alone, and when I approached it, it shocked me and knocked me unconscious for the past three days."

"You careless fool," the salarian councillor admonished. "That could have had valuable information on it—information that could have been used for the betterment of the galaxy!"

The turian councillor nodded his head. "Is this the same kind of caution that you normally carry yourself with? This does not seem to be behavior very fitting of a potential Spectre."

"It wasn't Shepard's fault," Anderson said, standing up in Shepard's defense. Shepard merely stood there, arms crossed on his chest, balling his hands into fists. "The beacon destroyed itself as Shepard approached it. There was no way it could have been predicted."

"But why didn't anybody else trigger the self-destruction protocols?"

Anderson looked the councillors, unable to formulate a response. Finally, he merely said "Perhaps Shepard is special."

"What happened to you, Shepard?" the asari councillor asked in a softer tone.

"When I approached it, it shocked me, and froze me in place. I... I had a vision when I touched it." Shepard looked over to Anderson, but he merely nodded.

"I saw... I experienced," he corrected himself quickly, trying to make his explanation more persuasive. "I experienced horrible bloodshed," Shepard said, as he brought the cruel images back into his mind. "I saw children being slaughtered in the streets, I watched as men and women burned alive. I saw great ships made of purple steel raining fire across the galaxy, engulfing whole planets in fire, melting them away."

The councillors were silent for a few moments, before the turian spoke up once more. "These visions are meaningless to us. It's a shame that the discovery couldn't have been shared," he said, speaking down to Shepard in that same damned condescending tone.

Was he trying to suggest that the humans were keeping the obelisk a secret from the other races?

"What about Saren?" Anderson asked, likely trying to divert the topic.

"Do you have any evidence that directly shows Saren's involvement with the geth attack on Eden Prime?" the asari councillor asked. Anderson was silent for a moment—he did not have anything beyond what Shepard and Kaidan half told him.

"I do," Kaidan said, stepping forward. He tapped a few buttons on his omni-tool, and Kaidan's voice began playing.

"Nihlus, are you going to rejoin us or are we still going to secure the obelisk?

"Neither." There was a short pause in Nihlus' speech—as he had jumped down the hill, Shepard remembered. "The two of you would have made good Spectres. But Saren gets what Saren wants."

The sound of gunshots followed, the moment when Nihlus had begun firing at them. Kaidan pressed a few buttons on his omni-tool, the audio playback stopping.

The councillors were quiet for a moment, faced with this evidence. Finally, the asari councillor spoke up.

"This could be fake. You could have reproduced his voice. Where is Nihlus, so that he may defend himself?"

"Rotting on Eden Prime," Shepard said gruffly.

There was a tense moment of silence as the asari tried to collect her thoughts. "Shepard, murdering a Spectre is a capital—"

"Murder?" Shepard shouted, taking a step towards the councillors. "The traitor tries to kill us, and then you have the audacity to accuse me of being a murderer?"

"Calm, Shepard," Anderson said from behind him, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "I assure you, Shepard would not lie. Nihlus is a traitor that threatened the lives of my crew."

"It's only because I know you're a good man that I'm not sending you all to prison right now," the asari councillor said.

"Now, I recommend you leave before there is a… diplomatic issue," the turian councillor said, with what could have passed as a sneer on his face.

"What about Saren?" Kaidan asked, getting angry as the Council was stonewalling them.

"Let's ask him for ourselves, shall we?" the turian councillor said with a wicked looking grin.

A hologram appeared beside the councillors of a turian with strange looking marks near his jaws—the glow of cybernetics.

"Saren," the turian councillor began. "These humans are accusing you of leading _geth _to Eden Prime. What do you have to say?"

"I can only say that the poor humans must be out of their mind to even consider that I might be working with such foul creatures. _My_ _condolences to your dead,_" Saren said sarcastically. "If that is all…"

"Yes," said the turian councillor, looking straight at Shepard. "That will be all."

"Come on," Anderson said, angrily turning around, marching away from the stubborn councillors.

"And to think we even considered Shepard as a Spectre," the salarian councillor said backhandedly as they walked away.

Shepard spun around angrily, this time, Anderson letting him go. He marched right back up to the edge of the raised platform and stuck a finger in their direction. "And to even think that you assholes are stupid enough to think that I wanted the god damned position! You can find someone else to suck up to your political ploys! I'll be on the battlefield, risking my life to get things done while you sit here on your plush cushions and play nice with all the other politicians!"

Shepard spun around, fists balled at his sides, as he walked away from the councillors, fuming as Anderson put a hand on his shoulder once more. He looked over at the man, catching a compassionate look, telling Shepard to let it go for now—they would have their chance later.

As thoughts of slicing the councillors throats were passing through his mind, a turian dressed up in an orange colored suit of heavy armor stepped in front of them as they walked down the staircase from the councillors.

"Can I help you, sir?" Anderson asked courteously, stopping for the large turian.

"Captain Karrok of C-Sec," the turian began. "I've come to ask for a favor."

"Perhaps. What is it?"

"I overheard your argument with the councillors," Karrok began. "It didn't sound very good—but I know of a way that you could get Saren off the Spectres and into the galactic wanted lists."

Anderson nodded, no emotion showing through his face. "And in return?"

"You need to help one of my officers. His name is Garrus Vakarian—he's good with guns, he's got the right mindset—he's a perfect officer, in my opinion, except he's gotten himself into a little bit of trouble." Karrok paused for a moment, seemingly reluctant to continue disclosing information. "There is a criminal around here named Markus, who has been shaking down visitors and carrying through with the occasional murder for the last few months… and Garrus is going after him."

"If you've known about him for so long, why haven't you taken him down already?" Kaidan asked.

"I would if I could have, but before I even knew about them, they found my family… they hurt my daughter. And I know that if they even thought I was trying to hunt them down… I don't know what they'd do to her. Or to my wife… I don't want anybody else getting hurt. But if Garrus can't take Markus down… then he'll think that I set him up to it."

"So you want us to clean up your mess?"

"Yes," Karrok replied, "But it's going to help you as well. That data I mentioned—a girl coming in has the data downloaded to her omni-tool, and Markus is trying to take her down. I hacked into Garrus' omni-tool a while back, and I have his location tracked and I've been siphoning information from it. I don't know where the attack is going to take place, though—something in Garrus' omni-tool blocked me from gaining access. All I know is that a man named Fist—the owner of a local bar—and Markus are planning on taking her down."

"So how do we find that out?" Anderson asked.

"The best way would be through Fist," Karrok replied. "We didn't know that Fist and Markus were working together until just recently, but we know that Fist spends most of his time in his private lounge at Chora's Den, a bar that he owns. You're almost guaranteed to find him there."

"So we hunt down Fist, find out where Markus is going to attack, save the girl, and get the data?" Anderson said.

"Basically," Karrok said. "But I would like you to make sure that Fist and Markus are both dead… I don't need them coming back after my family."

Anderson nodded a few times. "We can't lose this data—it's vital if we want to have a chance at stopping Saren before he goes too far. Shepard, I have business to take care of—I need to speak with Udina, the human ambassador. We need to arrange war preparations as well as colonial defense systems if other colonies come under fire."

"Why you?" Shepard asked. "Shouldn't someone ranked higher be taking care of that?"

"My rank is mostly a formality," Anderson answered. "If they bumped me any higher, I'd be filling out paperwork on the Citadel. So, I keep my rank, my job, and everybody is happy. Since I've been with the Alliance for so long, I help out with tactical work and other operations." Shepard nodded in response, understanding what he meant. "But there is no time for that—Shepard, Kaidan, I want the two of you to go and get that data."

"Yes, sir," Kaidan said, giving Anderson a salute.

"Then I'll be off. Good luck, boys," Anderson said, as he began walking out of the room.

"So, Captain Karrok," Shepard said. "Which way to Chora's Den?"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Even in the majestic beauty of a place like the Citadel, there were dark corners—places where nobody would look, both out of fear and of ignorance, places where criminals and murderers hid from local law enforcement. It was a place that Tali hoped would conceal her just as effectively.

In the far reaches where the artificial sunlight did not shine was where Tali hoped that she would be safe—only for another hour, until she met the Shadow Broker and he provided her with the protection she needed—at least until she could make it back to the Fleet.

This whole Pilgrimage was a disaster—everything had been a disaster ever since she stepped foot into the hellhole that was Illium. Only a few weeks ago, she had been so full of hope, innocence, ready to experience the galaxy first hand, and not through a video of some sort. But the videos did more justice to the galaxy than the galaxy did to itself. Somehow, Tali had managed to attract the attention of someone who wanted her dead everywhere she turned—first it was Isaac back on Illium, and now someone had tried to kill her. At least, that's what she assumed—she only hoped she had been lucky enough to survive because the gunman missed.

Her thoughts returned to the throbbing pain in her arm. She had taken as many painkillers as she could justify, but the subtle throbbing pain still existed, omnipresent as Tali waited for the hours to tick away.

And who was this Shadow Broker, anyways? The name was certainly ominous enough, but she had never heard of him before now. And what did he want with Tali's data? How did he even know what kind of data Tali had? She had barely disclosed any details to the C-Sec officer which had pushed her away, yet the Shadow Broker seemed very ready to accept whatever information that Tali had with her.

But what if it was a setup? It's not like that hadn't happened repeatedly over the past few days—one more trap wouldn't be pushing the boundaries of reality by any margin. It seemed too convenient—too perfect for one of his agents to arrive right after Tali was injured.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be a killing shot—perhaps it was only meant to force her into a position where she had to accept the Shadow Broker's offer.

Tali grimaced at the thought as she tapped a few buttons on her omni-tool. She didn't know what to expect, but it was best to try and prepare for anything. She had seen geth already, so she preloaded the same geth hacking software which she had used on Illium. As well, she also loaded a shield overloading software, which would adjust shield intensity to the point that the batteries were unable to keep up with the energy draw and would simply burst, and she also loaded up a runtime which would overheat enemy weapons and cause them to misfire. She didn't have her shotgun, but she wasn't completely useless yet. If only there was something on her omni-tool that she could use to actually hurt somebody…

But if she could provide herself the chance to escape if things turned ugly… then she would be ok. She would be able to run to the docks, just like she did before, and get a flight straight to the Migrant Fleet. It wasn't the best plan, but the Geth data she had found would be of some use to her father—and the battle plans she had found would be useful as well.

_Why me,_Tali thought mournfully as she reviewed the events of the past few days in her head. She certainly didn't remember Shala'Raan telling her about getting attacked, shot, and finding herself in strange deals with people she didn't know.

Then a thought struck her—she didn't even have the money to spare for a ride out of the Citadel even if she wanted. _Oh god,_she thought, as she realized she only had two options left—to steal her way through to a flight off the Citadel, or to meet with the Shadow Broker.

And one of those options wasn't feasible.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"This is the place," Shepard said, as he saw the large, glowing lights above the bar in shapes of various women in sultry positions. 'Chora's Den', the large sign announced, "A Gentleman's Club".

"Just tells you what kind of person Fist is," Kaidan said, shaking his head at the not-so-subtle strip club.

"Speaking of Fist," Shepard said, walking towards the front entrance, "Do we have a plan on finding the guy?"

"Not really," Kaidan replied back. "We don't have any real intel on him either—all we know is that he runs the bar. Maybe we could find him in the back room?"

"I doubt that he'll just open the doors up and let us in," Shepard said. "Do you think there's any way of getting in other than the front door?"

"Well," Kaidan said, a slight smirk appearing on his face, "One time, on an old movie, I saw them climbing through the air vents. We could try that."

"Air vents?" Shepard replied incredulously. "I don't even think I could fit through them," he said as he motioned towards a grate that was located on the ceiling.

"Well, any other plans?" Kaidan asked, shrugging.

"Do you think if we storm in that he'll be able to stop us?"

"It's not just that," Kaidan said, shaking his head. "A guy that's been running a crime enterprise for the last six months probably has some kind of contingency plan—a backdoor to run out of when things get hot. We wouldn't be able to get close to him before he skipped out and ran."

"Well, any other plans?" Shepard said back to Kaidan, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

As Kaidan began to walk away, looking for another way to infiltrate the bar, a large krogan walked up behind Shepard.

"You looking for Fist?" The large krogan asked.

_Damn_, Shepard thought. He had only heard about krogan in news reports—and when they said that krogan were massive, they weren't kidding. This thing was at least a few feet taller than Shepard, and at least twice as wide. _Just hope it falls down hard,_Shepard thought as he put a hand on his pistol.

"You got a problem with that?" Shepard asked, putting on a tone of gruff experience.

"Only if you're bringing him flowers," the krogan remarked, a deep throaty chuckle rising from his throat. "If you're taking him out too, then I've got a deal for you."

Kaidan had come backwards, standing beside Shepard to face the tall krogan. "And what deal would that be?"

"I've been hunting this asshole down for the last two weeks, and he keeps skirting out from under me. If I step into that bar, he runs off with his tail between his legs."

"So we're the stealth, and you're the muscle?" Kaidan asked, starting to understand where their agreement was going.

"Basically," the krogan said, giving a slight nod. "There's a back door that we can get into to trap him, but it's locked to everyone that isn't bringing in supplies."

"Couldn't we just hack it?" Kaidan asked.

"Already tried," the krogan said, shaking his head. "Damn bastard upgraded his security since the last time. But there is another way."

The tall krogan paused for a second, looking at the two of them closely. "Inside, behind the front bar, the bartender has access to the door controls."

"And you want us to open it," Kaidan said, nodding his head. "Sounds simple enough—but I don't think they're just going to let us after the button."

"I'm sure you can manage it, handsome," the krogan said, a grin on his face while he looked at Kaidan. "You, on the other hand…" he said, motioning to Shepard. "Maybe not so much."

"You want me to seduce the bartender?" Kaidan asked incredulously. "But… no. There has to be another way."

"I'm sure you'll find a way. Get it done—I'll be waiting outside for your triumphant return."

The krogan turned around and walked away, leaving the two by themselves as Kaidan continued to shake his head.

"No. I am _not_doing this."

"Got any better plans?" Shepard asked with a slight chuckle.

"Well, you could just shoot someone. I'm sure that would divert their attention pretty fast," Kaidan said with a chuckle. "But seriously—don't. Something makes me think that this 'Fist' guy wouldn't be sticking around to watch the bullets flying."

"We've got to act fast, though. Karrok said that the attack was going to go down soon—so it's either your pride or someone's life."

Kaidan sighed, putting his head in his hands. "I've got another plan. Just… make sure you're ready.

Kaidan and Shepard walked through the front door of the bar, the loud music blaring loudly even through the sounds of people cheering, yelling or shouting from inside. At a few tables, a couple of asari and a few female humans were dancing in front of crowds of rapt observers. The circular bar was in the middle of the large chamber, with a gruff looking turian working one side, and an asari working the other.

"So, you want the turian?" Shepard asked jokingly, poking his elbow into Kaidan's side.

"Like hell I do," Kaidan said, shaking his head once more. "Come on—let's get this over with and hope that I don't need to put on a show for the turian."

"As soon as she's distracted, I'll get behind the counter and hit the switch," Shepard said, getting into position as Kaidan looked around the bar.

"That might not be necessary," Kaidan said, nodding at Shepard.

The man, in his dark blue combat armor, walked forwards to the bar, casually resting his elbows on the counter as he leaned forwards.

"Can I get you anything?" the asari asked as she absentmindedly fiddled around with the drink machine.

"Yes," Kaidan said, putting on a voice of superiority. "We've got seven crates filled with stock number eight out back."

"Stock number eight?" The asari said, giving Kaidan a curious look. "Number eight typically comes in on Tuesdays, I thought."

"Fist was in need of some extra, if you know what I mean," Kaidan said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "And if Fist doesn't get what he wants…"

"Do you have any identification?" the asari asked, nervously looking around.

"Do you honestly think I'd be carrying I.D. if I was carting around seven crates of number eight?"

"No," the woman sheepishly responded. "It's open—just hurry. I don't want any police asking me questions again."

Kaidan stood back up, casually turning around and walking towards the front door where he had come from. Shepard waited for a few moments, not wanting to build suspicion by following him out directly, instead looking around the bar.

It certainly did say quite a bit about Fist—at least as a businessman, if not a person. Something about the whole club reeked of danger—even the strippers had pistols, Shepard had noted, though they hid them well in their boots. Not to mention that the asari were probably all potent biotics—which as Shepard already knew made them exceptionally dangerous.

Shepard slowly stepped out of the bar, looking around for Kaidan as he did. Not seeing the man, he headed down the back alley where their krogan friend had went earlier, hopefully still patiently waiting for them to get the door unlocked.

Krogan friend, strip club, damsel in distress.

This was certainly a strange day already. First was the Council that had made him so angry—and it wasn't even the fact that they weren't supporting them, it was the fact that they were so ready to dismiss their claims and accuse them of being the ones who were causing trouble. It was so frustrating trying to work with people who simply wouldn't listen. Shepard felt a pang of guilt as he realized how Kaidan must have felt when Shepard ignored him, running off on Eden Prime.

Kaidan wouldn't have forgotten about it either, but luckily, he had put the issue aside, or had chosen to ignore it. Shepard would have to apologize to him sometime for what he did.

He passed through an alleyway out behind the bar, a well armed human staring him down as he walked past, as well as his entourage of a few other soldiers. People sure seemed ready to look for fights around here, Shepard thought as he envisioned how the battle would go in his head. If the man pulled a gun out, Shepard could spin around, ducking down to grab his knife as he sliced through the man's legs. Continuing with his motion, he could keep spinning towards the next man, getting him either in the stomach or the throat, depending on what he decided to reveal, and then his shotgun could deal with one more. The last few wouldn't be difficult—his shields would protect him well enough, at least to retreat and maybe dive back in with his cloaking module.

Luckily for Shepard, no conflict was necessary—though he was slightly disappointed, wanting to test out his combat skills once more. He shook the thought out of his head, remembering where those kinds of desires had gotten him in the past.

As he rounded the next corner, he saw the tall krogan coming into view once more, standing beside a Kaidan who seemed to have recovered from his embarrassment and was now holding his pistol in his hands as he waited for Shepard to arrive.

"Can't believe you actually did it," the krogan said. "Apparently your friend is a better smooth talker than I pinned him for."

"So, just through this door?" Shepard asked, lifting his shotgun off the magnetic clasps on his back.

"Yup," the krogan said, bringing his shotgun to bear similarly. "There are a couple of sentry turrets inside, from what I can tell, and maybe a couple guards, but nothing I can't handle. Looks like you guys have some combat training, so stick behind me and try not to get shot."

"Wait," Kaidan said, stopping the krogan. "When we find Fist, try not to kill him right away. He has intel that we need."

"Yeah, yeah. But if you let him escape, I'm going to filet you both once we're done."

The krogan kicked the door down, red laser dots suddenly finding their way to his chest as the two sentry turrets located inside of the room found their targets. As they began firing at the krogan, he deftly brought his shotgun to bear, shooting one of the guns off its clasps on the ceiling, while Shepard fired at the other, shattering its targeting mechanism. Both the guns disabled, the room quickly became quiet—but not for long.

Two turian guards, equipped in medium-weight combat garb ran into the room, one with a shotgun and the other armed with an assault rifle. As the shotgun-toting turian ran in, Wrex smacked him across the face with his gun, knocking the man to the floor. The second turian was slightly more prepared, already unloading rounds into the krogan's shields.

Kaidan reached out with a hand, shoving the man back biotically as he lost grip of his rifle and flew into a wall into the next room. Shepard quickly shot at the man lying on the ground, running into the next room behind Kaidan and the krogan.

The tell-tale whine of a sentry gun began to sound, firing upon Kaidan and the krogan as they entered the room. Kaidan quickly shot at the gun a few times with his pistol, easily dispatching it.

"I would have expected more resistance," Kaidan said, shaking his head. "I thought this guy was the crime boss, after all."

"I've been killing most of his resistance for the past two weeks," the krogan said as he chuckled. "Sneaky bastard's just been leaving them behind for me to clean up."

The next metal door slid open smoothly as it revealed a more decorative room which held a couple of red couches and even a fishtank in the back of the room. In the center, a man of fairly heavy build stood behind a large, mounted turret which was on top of his desk.

"Get down!" Kaidan shouted as the man began to fire at them, the heavy mass accelerator rounds tearing through his shields in just a few shots. The krogan's didn't last much longer, failing after a few bullets had struck him. The two dived down behind stone pillars, hoping that they would hold firm against the hail of bullets.

Shepard activated his cloak, running into the room as he rolled along the floor, trying to dive underneath the rain of bullets that he was putting into his squadmates. He slid forwards on his smooth combat armor, coming to rest in front of the desk where the man was firing the turret.

The krogan leaned around the corner, firing his shotgun towards the man, the bullets skidding across his shields and slamming into the fish tank behind him, shattering the glass as a torrent of water flowed down across Shepard as he lie on the ground. As a goldfish slid past Shepard, he rolled over on the ground, standing up behind the man on the turret as he stood there, oblivious to Shepard's presence.

Shepard flipped his knife, holding the blade downwards, as he stepped forwards, throwing his weight into the thrust, as he slid his knife in between the metal plates on the backside of his knee. The man howled in pain as he released his grip on the sentry turret, spinning around to slap Shepard as he fell to the ground. Just as quickly, the krogan and Kaidan both stood beside the man, holding their weapons to his head.

"Are you Fist?" Kaidan asked to the main, still holding his pistol up to the incapacitated man.

"Screw off," he said, spitting on the ground.

"That's him," the krogan said. "Definitely him."

"Finally caught up to me? Took you damn long enough," Fist said angrily.

The krogan merely laughed at the comment. "You shouldn't be the one talking—I'm not lying on the ground about to die."

"So? Why don't you do it then?" Fist spat, shaking his head.

"We might let you live," Shepard said. The krogan gave him an angry looking glare before Shepard nodded slightly to him, trying to tip him off to his plan. "But you've got information that we need."

"Fuck off. What are you, C-Sec? If you touch me one more time, I swear I'll fucking murder every child with a daddy in C-Sec," Fist said, chuckling. "Now get off me."

"We're not C-Sec," the krogan said threateningly as he shoved his shotgun into the man's head.

"He won't talk? Alright, then. Just kill him," Shepard said dismissively, as he began to stand up.

"Wait!" Fist shouted, realizing that his life was now on the line. "What do you need to know?"

"There is a girl who you're planning on killing soon;" Kaidan said, putting his pistol back in his holster. "Where is the attack going to be?"

"Just out back! My buddy Markus is the one who's doing it! I didn't want nothin' to do with him! It was his idea!"

"Good," Shepard said, as he began walking out the door. "We're done with him now."

"Wait—I told you everything! Wait! Stop!"

The man's screams were cut off by the sound of the krogan's shotgun blasting through the man's head. Shepard closed his eyes for a moment, regretting the decision, but it had to be done. He was a criminal, after all—and he was only going to hurt someone else if he had survived.

"Come on!" Shepard shouted at Kaidan. "We have to stop them!"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali took a deep breath once more as she began walking towards the bar where she was supposed to meet the Shadow Broker. A fast-paced, somewhat catchy song played inside of the club, the noise even leaking out this far into the streets. _This was it,_Tali thought as she began walking towards the backside of the club. But she had nowhere else to turn. She had no credits, no weapons, no food, no medical supplies, and an assassin of some sort after her. Where else could she turn to? Tali silently lamented that she probably wouldn't be able to see the Fleet ever again, that she wouldn't be able to see Shala'Raan, or Han'Gerrel, or her Father…

What would her Father even say if she had died? Would he even care? Or would he just be disappointed this his own daughter couldn't even get through her Pilgrimage? Tali imagined her Father's face, always covered with his dark mask, slowly shaking his head at her like he had done so many times over the years. Tali wished that she could just hug him once, or that she could see his face—even his own daughter hadn't had that privilege.

As she walked around the corner, she saw a man dressed in combat armor leaning against the wall, standing beside six other well equipped soldiers.

"The Shadow Broker greets you," the man said, stepping forwards towards Tali, a dangerous looking grin on his face. Now more soldiers stepped out from some hidden crevice in the wall, standing behind Tali, blocking off her escape. _This is it,_she thought once more.

"Do you have the data?" He asked, reached out with a hand.

"I want the credits first," Tali said, trying to speak past the lump in her throat. "And the medical supplies, and… a flight back to the Fleet."

"Oh," the man said, shaking his head as that terrible grin spread wider across his face. "You ain't going back to the Fleet."

There were so many things that Tali had wanted to see, had wanted to do. So many hopes… so many dreams—and they were all going to be cast away. Another tear rolled down Tali's cheek as she closed her eyes, waiting for the man to kill her—to just be done with it.

Oh, how she wished that she could have returned to the Fleet with a wonderous Pilgrimage gift, her Father beaming with pride at her daughter's accomplishment.

"Grab her."

Two men stood behind her, grabbing onto her arms as she hissed sharply in pain, the pain brutally spiking through her body. They gruffly held onto her, holding her back, unable to move as she stared into the man's face.

She could have been so many things—she could have been an engineer on a ship, or maybe she could have been part of an infiltration squad—or maybe someday, should could have even been an admiral. Maybe her Father would have hugged her then—maybe he would have been like before her mother had died.

Maybe someday, she would have found someone who loved her—a nice quarian who she could get married with, someone who she could hug and cry on without fear of being punished or reprimanded. Someone she could count on.

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

"Let's see what this pretty face looks like," the man said, as he reached forwards, putting his arms around Tali's mask, feeling around for the release mechanism. "Let's have some fun with her."

Tali closed her eyes, willing to tears to leave as she tried to stand strong, and face death without fear. She bit her lip, helpless as she felt the man's rough hands reaching under her veil, fingers tightening on the release mechanism.

And then there was a gunshot.


	8. Heroes

**:: Chapter Eight :: **Heroes **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_The ghostly cries of the abandoned_

_Carve ruin into the fabric of my senses._

_Yet my back is turned,_

_My heart stone,_

_There will be no return for one such as I._

_For I am but a man,_

_Fallible yet free,_

_Purity and principles scattered to harsh winds,_

_Stoic beneath waning skies swollen with promises of pain._

_-Fen-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Garrus lowered his rifle, looking over top the scope. Markus fell to the ground, his shields being no match for the heavy round which he had sent flying towards his leg. A small smile grew on Garrus' face—finally being able to take that shot at the man who had been tormenting C-Sec for the past few months. But he didn't want to kill him—not yet. He would make him suffer for everything he had done. But in time—there was still work to be done by his estimation. Six more heavily equipped soldiers still stood, and only one C-Sec officer to stop them. As soon as they saw him perched up in the ceiling, balanced on a support beam, he was dead. He only had to hope that the power of stealth and good positioning would keep him safe now.

He sighted down his scope once more, taking bead on a new target.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Damnit, it's already happened!" Kaidan shouted as he nearly dived down the stairwell towards the back of the alley where he could hear gunshots being fired. Shepard enabled his cloaking module, following after Kaidan as six soldiers stood in a semi-circular pattern, their assault rifles out, seeming to be searching for a target.

"Damnit," shouted a man who Shepard hadn't noticed, who was kneeling on the ground behind the rest of the soldiers. "Kill the attackers!"

Kaidan dived around the corner, with seemingly no regard for his own safety, as he glowed blue briefly while he fired one of the soldiers down the hallway as he pushed him using his biotic energy. Bringing his pistol to bear, he began firing into the soldiers, trying to punch through their shields as quickly as he could.

Shepard skirted around the enemies, trying to dodge their bullets as he made his way into a vantage position behind them. A crack sounded, the sound of a heavy rifle, as one of the men fell over, dead. As the man fell over, Shepard saw who they were looking for—in the middle of the soldiers stood a slight figure, wearing a purple colored suit of some kind, with a hood over her head. She was still standing—which meant she was fine for now. But these soldiers had to go down before she did.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

In just an instant, the men around her had sprung into action, firing their rifles madly into targets that Tali couldn't see. The man in front of her who was about to take of her mask was lying on the ground, cursing profusely, as he attended to a wound in his leg that the unknown assailants had caused.

But there was no time to be stunned—one of these soldiers could turn around in an instant, and decide that she had to die, no matter the cost. She brought up her omni-tool, and, while gritting through the pain of having to move her arm, she enabled her overload program, watching as the shields of the soldiers in front of her flared bright blue as they died, their batteries unable to keep up with the increased shield draw. Another of the soldiers fell, as Tali caught sight of her saviors—a man wearing a suit of heavy blue armor was running past her captors, firing his pistol into the now unshielded foes.

As Tali watched the man firing his pistol, one of the soldiers had turned his attention back to Tali, bringing his rifle towards her. But her shields hadn't recharged yet—the bullets would go straight through her environment suit… and she would die.

Even with this turn of events, this was still it.

And even as she watched, a man wearing a silvery colored suit of combat armor suddenly materialized from thin air, a combat blade in his hand, spinning as the blade slid past the soldier's throat, blood spraying into the air as the soldier fell forwards, clutching at his wound.

As the man spun around, for the briefest moment, their eyes met. Inside those eyes, Tali could see determination, strength, stubbornness… and pain.

But the man kept running, pulling a shotgun from his hip as he unloaded rounds into the remaining soldiers, taking them down from behind.

And then the fight was over. Tali merely stood there, still breathing the filtered air inside of her environment suit, her heart still beating, staring at the men before her.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Seeing that the soldiers were distracted with the other men who had charged in, Garrus had slid down from his perch, landing on the floor with a thud that had went unnoticed by anybody else in the commotion. The man in blue armor that had charged in had suppressed the soldiers well, particularly with his biotic abilities, but when the other soldier materialized—he had torn through the men as if they hadn't even been armored. With that wicked knife of his, which was now hanging in his left hand as he approached Markus, who was still kneeling on the ground, clutching at his knee.

"Stop!" Garrus shouted, not wanting the man to kill Markus. This was his kill.

The two men looked up to him quizzically, their weapons still in hand but pointed down at the ground.

"Garrus?" the biotic asked.

Garrus merely nodded back at him, unsure of how the two had known who he was. As Garrus was approaching, the man with the knife had lifted Markus up by the throat to a standing position, and was holding his bloody knife threateningly near the man's throat while looking at Garrus for what he assumed to be confirmation.

Garrus shook his head, and the man dropped Markus down to the ground before stepping back. Markus grunted in pain, sucking in breath sharply as he glared angrily at Garrus.

"Markus," Garrus merely said, staring at the cruel man.

Markus, with a blur of motion, grabbed a pistol from its holster at his hip, bringing the weapon to Garrus' face. With an equally fast motion, Garrus swung his arm downward, clipping the pistol and sending it flying away, skidding across the floor. Garrus reached past the man's arm, grabbing him by the throat once more before lifting him up and slamming him into the wall.

"You son of a bitch," Garrus said, lathering his words in venom. "You murderer… you're the one who crippled Karrok's daughter. You're the one who's been responsible for all the people that have gone missing. And now you're going to disappear."

"You're playing with fire, kid," Markus spat in Garrus' face. "You touch me, Fist is going to royally fuck over all your friends at C-Sec," he said, a cruel smirk on his face. "So I suggest you let me go before I decide to make them suffer a little bit more."

"Fist is dead," the man behind him said. Markus' eyes widened upon the revelation, but he did well in masking the fear in his voice.

"You think he's the only one? I've got friends in high places, buddy. And none of them are going to be too happy about this."

"Too bad," Garrus said as he pulled his pistol from his hip. He shoved the barrel of the gun right into the man's eye—those cruel eyes, staring at him so heartlessly. "You'll have friends in much lower places once I'm through with all of them."

He tightened his finger on the trigger, barely noticing the recoil of the weapon, feeling the man's body go limp as the life fled his frame. He dropped Markus down onto the ground, slowly sliding his pistol back into his holster. He turned around to face the two men who stood directly behind him, glancing over quickly at the quarian who was the victim of Markus' attack.

"Garrus Vakarian. C-Sec."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard looked over at the girl who sat across the table—a quarian from what Kaidan had told him. He had never heard of them before—apparently they mostly kept to themselves. The girl was strong, but broken—he could tell by the way that she shrunk down into her chair, the way that she looked down at her feet more often than she would look up at anything else.

After they had cleared out Fist and Markus, they had taken Tali over to a restaurant that was nearby that served turian food—which quarians apparently ate. It was Garrus' idea, and considering everything that the girl had just been through, it was probably not a bad idea to just sit down for a few minutes, even if she was too shaken to eat anything.

"It's alright," Shepard found himself saying to the girl without any particular thought or reasoning. She nodded her head at him once.

"I'm… I'm sorry. It's just that… I just never thought that I would ever leave that alleyway. I thought… I thought…" She began to cry, audibly sobbing.

"You're safe now," Kaidan said, patting her on the shoulder. "Nobody is going to hurt you."

"Thank you so much," Tali said, trying to stifle her tears.

Garrus approached their table, bringing a sealed plastic tube filled with water which he handed over to Tali.

"Drink up," he said, patting Tali on the back. "It'll make you feel better."

She nodded silently, wrapping her hands tightly around the drink—something definite she could hold on to.

"What happened down there?" Kaidan asked, concern in his voice. "How did they capture you?"

Tali was silent for a few moments as she tried to regain her composure. "When I first came to the Citadel… there was… someone shot at me," she said hesitatingly. "So someone told me that the Shadow Broker would help me… Then when I went behind the bar… he… he tried to kill me. I was going to die, and then… then you saved me."

"Why were they after you?" Kaidan asked, trying to subtly probe her for the data that they were looking for. He likely didn't want to directly ask for it—if that information was as important as it sounded, it likely wasn't something that she wanted to simply give away—especially not after an encounter like the one she had just had.

"I don't know," Tali admitted. "On Illium, someone tried to hurt me too… but I got away."

Shepard felt anger rising in the pit of his stomach. Seeing Tali crying in front of him, so battered and broken after everything she had experienced… her innocence lost. Someone who used to be so full of hope, someone who didn't need to look around her shoulder as she walked, someone who wasn't terrified of what the next corner might hide.

And there were hundreds of criminals, murderers, terrible people who caused that kind of pain—innocence thieves. All people who deserved to die and suffer a thousand deaths.

"You'll be safe here," Shepard reiterated once more, nodding his head. "Nobody will want to mess with us, after all."

"Not after we've just taken out the two biggest crime lords on this half of the Citadel," Garrus chipped in, nodding his head.

"The Citadel is in danger," Tali suddenly said, a hint of steel coming into her voice. "It's going to be attacked."

"By who?" Kaidan said, trying not to push her too quickly.

"A man named Saren…" Tali said, Kaidan glancing over at Shepard upon hearing the revelation. "He's building a geth army, and he's taking over colonies across the galaxy. He already attacked at Eden Prime, and he's still going to attack more places."

"Eden Prime is safe," Shepard said, wanting to give some hope to the girl who seemed to have none of her own.

"But… but there were supposed to be no reinforcements… and the geth would have overrun the colony…"

"We might have stopped them," Shepard said, a small smile coming to his face.

"Wait… you're… you're from the Normandy, aren't you?" Tali said, the terror and shock from the traumatic experience she had just had fading away with excitement. When Kaidan and Shepard nodded, she almost burst out. "Keelah, you must be Captain Anderson!"

Kaidan laughed, shaking his head. "Not quite. I'm Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, and this is—"

"Shepard. John Shepard." He smiled slightly, looking at Tali—a little bit of happiness returned, she was holding her shoulders up a little higher. Perhaps her innocence wasn't lost—maybe there was more than a broken husk sitting in front of him.

Maybe he was more than just a broken husk.

"Wait… you're the Spectres?"

"Well, not quite," Kaidan said sheepishly, his thoughts returning to the Council meeting that had occurred earlier that day. "We almost were…"

"Until Saren attacked," Shepard added.

"The Council wouldn't believe a word of what we said—they couldn't imagine that Saren—one of their top Spectres—had turned on them."

"But… I have proof! There are battle plans that show where he's going to attack, and the number of troops that he's landing, and even data that shows how he can use his Spectre authorization to get unrestricted access to intel!"

"And that's where you come in," Shepard said, nodding to Tali with a slight smile. "The Council wouldn't listen to us—so now that we have evidence, they'll listen to you."

"Me?" Tali said, slowly shaking her head. "I—I couldn't speak to the Council. I'm just a quarian, after all—"

"That's ok," Shepard said. "I don't see the difference. Someone needs to put the Council in their place," Shepard said with a chuckle.

Tali visibly straightened up at the comment—apparently the comment had meant something to her.

"Well… Ok," Tali said, pulling up her omni-tool. "I'll bring up the data right here—ah!" Tali hissed as she lifted her arm to try and press a few buttons on her omni-tool.

"Are you injured?" Kaidan asked, looking concerned.

"When they tried to kill me before, an assassin shot me in the arm," Tali explained. "I… I've just been using painkillers. But it's no problem—it's more important we take this data to the Council."

"No problem?" Shepard asked, remembering the wound he had taken in the arm as well just a few days ago. Thanks to Dr. Chakwas' excellent care—and more than a little advanced technology—he had been able to achieve his usual full range of motion without any major pain. Without that arm, he couldn't even do half of what he normally could—he would be a cripple. "You better get that checked out by a hospital or a doctor. You wouldn't want it getting infected."

"I've already taken some antibiotics and some painkillers, so I should be fine. Really." Shepard still didn't like the idea of Tali—who was possibly still on somebody's hit list—unable to use her right arm with any effectiveness. But she was right—the sooner they got to the Council, the better. The longer Saren had Council support, the harder it was going to be to take them down.

"Well, as soon as you're ready, we can go to the Council. I'll let Anderson know we're coming," Kaidan said as he stood up from the table.

"I'm ready," Tali said as she nodded her head a few times.

"Then let's do this," Shepard said, ready to watch the Council face the truth.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Captain Anderson. What a joy to have you back," the turian councillor said, making no attempts to hide the dripping sarcasm on his words. "What have you returned to us so soon for?"

"We've located new information—information that points to none other than Saren as the instigator of the geth attack on Eden Prime. And information that shows where he'll strike next."

"How could you have found data like this so quickly?" the asari councillor asked, a curious look on her face.

"We had a little help," Shepard said, stepping forward. "We received intel that a local crime lord was planning on killing a woman who was at the Citadel—a woman who had intel implicating Saren's guilt."

Tali stepped forward from behind Shepard, visibly nervous to be speaking in front of the Councillors. "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I found Saren's plans to strike at Eden Prime, as well as other key colonies across the galaxy to try and gain control of the resources he needs to strike the Citadel."

The asari councillor nodded to Tali, taking in what she said, while the other two merely stood there with stone-like expressions, still refusing to budge on their previous decision.

"And how did you get this data, Miss Zorah?" The salarian councillor asked with a not-so-well disguised edge of disdain.

"I was attacked by geth on Illium," Tali said, trying to ignore the undertones of what the salarian councillor was likely accusing her of. "And I managed to capture the memory core of one of the platforms before it erased its memory banks."

"Is such a feat even possible?" the turian councillor said. "If I recall correctly, when _your people_unleashed the geth upon the galaxy, there were software blocks built in to prevent the data module from being removed without destroying all the data within."

Tali tightened her fists slightly when the councillor had brought up the geth's creation. "Our people know the geth better than anyone else—it's possible to capture the memory core if you use a code freeze on the geth platform, and then physically remove—"

"Very well," the salarian councillor interrupted her. "The specifics are not necessary. Let us see the data you have gathered."

Tali nodded a few times, before pressing a few buttons on her omni-tool. In the middle of the room, a large hologram appeared, appearing to look similar to the galaxy map which Shepard had noticed on the Normandy.

"The attack started here, on Eden Prime," Tali said, gesturing to a star cluster which was glowing red. "They landed forty-seven geth platoons in key locations across the colony, cutting down military forces using something called "Sovereign." They would lure the Normandy into Eden Prime, and Nihlus would dispose of Shepard and Kaidan. He would return to the Normandy, and take the vessel away, bringing it to Saren. The geth would destroy everything else on the planet without any way of escaping."

There councillors sat there for a few moments, stunned, as they absorbed the information. This girl had recited almost exactly the number of recorded geth squadrons that had landed on the planet, according to the Alliance's specifications, which they had looked over since their last meeting. Either this girl had access to secured Alliance and Council channels… or she was right.

"This data could be a fabrication. You've only given us details for what we already know," the turian councillor said, shaking his head once more.

"But… there's more data here!" Tali said, rapidly tapping on her omni-tool as other planets flowed through the hologram, showing geth ships dropping troops onto the colonies which were shown.

"You have not brought us enough evidence to show Saren's guilt," the salarian councillor said.

"Bullshit!" Shepard shouted at the councillors, his rage rising. "I thought you were supposed to be protecting the galaxy—not kissing some turncoat's ass!"

"Do you dare to accuse—"

"Shepard is right!" the asari councillor unexpectedly shouted out. "The evidence is all here. It is irrefutable," she said, shaking her head sadly. "It does not matter whether we want to believe he is innocent or not… but justice must be carried out."

"Tevos, this is—"

"Look at the evidence, Sparatus," the asari councillor said back to the turian. "Valern, you must agree with me."

The salarian took a deep breath before nodding curtly. "Very well. Before this Council, Saren Arterius is no longer, and never will be, a Council Spectre. He will be stripped of rank and privilege, and is as of this moment, will be marked as a criminal and a fugitive. I uphold his motion."

"As do I," Sparatus said.

"And as do I," Tevos said, completing the ceremony. Looking over at her companions, they nodded to her as she continued.

"Lieutenant Shepard, you have proven yourself to be a worthy candidate for the Spectres, proving beyond all that you stand for justice at any cost. Step forward, and take your position as the first human Spectre in galactic history."

"No," Shepard said simply.

"What?" Sparatus said, stunned at the blatant refusal.

"I told you last time—you can find someone else to do your dirty work, someone else to suck up to your political ploys. You've only proved my point further—you two," he said while gesturing towards Valern and Sparatus, "You two only care about your personal agenda. The fate of the galaxy wouldn't have crossed your mind until someone forced it through you."

There was a moment of stunned silence as the councillor's stared at Shepard's hard set jaw, clearly stubborn on his choice. Nobody had ever denied an opportunity to join the Spectres—and especially not when they were chosen to be the first Spectre for their race.

"Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko," Sparatus said, trying to save face by acting as if he was ready to cast Shepard aside as soon as he denied the position. "You may step forward and accept your position as human's first Council Spectre."

Kaidan merely stood in his place, and shook his head sadly.

"Shepard is right, Councillors. I belong with my people—fighting, defending them from whatever threats exist. I'm not a Spectre—I'm just a soldier."

Sparatus' face twitched slightly as he clenched onto the terminal which sat in front of him.

"Very well!" he finally shouted, throwing his hands into the air. "Be gone with all of you. Return to the filth and muck of whence you came."

The group turned around, walking away from the councillors one more time, but this time, with satisfaction fresh in their hearts, not disappointment. Anderson put a hand on Shepard and Kaidan's shoulders once again, a small smile on his face.

As they walked down the steps, a skinny man wearing a white suit ran up to them, waving his arms wildly. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Shepard? That was our chance to finally have power!"

The man grabbed onto Shepard's shoulders, trying to shake him, but Shepard merely shoved him off, deftly sliding his pistol out of its holster as the man backed away slowly.

"Guns down, Shepard. This is Donnel Udina, official ambassador of the human embassy on the Citadel."

Shepard holstered his pistol once more, but not before giving Udina a shrivelling stare that would have told any man not to mess with him.

"Damnit, Shepard," Udina said once more. "If you had accepted that position as a Spectre, we could have used that power to get humanity a seat on the Council!"

"And at what cost?" Shepard retorted back. "If the Council won't fight injustice, then it's useless to me any every other person out in the galaxy."

"If we had a spot on the Council," Udina said, motioning with his hands rapidly, "We could have made the decision to expel Saren before you went chasing the data this _quarian_found!"

"It doesn't matter," Shepard said. "We wouldn't have left her to die either way—and this data shows us where he's going to strike next."

"Bah!" Udina said once more, shaking his head. "You have no idea what you're playing with!"

"Come, Udina," Anderson said, resting a heavy hand on the man's shoulder. "It's pointless now—the position has already been turned down. We still have lots to do."

Udina sighed, shaking his head once again. "Very well."

"Shepard, I'm going to go and take care of a few more loose ends here on the Citadel. Meet me back at the Normandy in three hours—in the meantime, take a look around. You three could use a break."

Kaidan nodded back at Anderson before giving him a salute. "Yes, sir."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"So, is this your first time on the Citadel?"

Tali looked over at Shepard, still lost in her thoughts. It had been a hectic day—first she got shot in the marketplace, then she was almost murdered in the alleyway, then she had gone to shove information into the Council's face. And certainly not without Shepard and Kaidan's help would that have ever happened.

"Tali?"

"Oh," Tali said, realizing that she hadn't answered. "Yes. It's a very beautiful place," she said absentmindedly, bringing up the only compliment she could think of after everything she had been through.

The trio were passing through the market district right now—the same place where she had been shot earlier. The place where that she thought her life was going to end.

_No such thoughts_, she told herself, trying to mimic Shala'Raan's voice inside of her head. Shala had always been so nice to Tali—ever since her mother died, Shala had been like… like a mother. To hear her voice—even if it was only in her head—was comforting to the troubled Tali.

"So what brings a quarian out here?" Kaidan asked nonchalantly as they walked past the market terminals. "I thought that you mostly stayed with the Fleet."

"The Fleet?" Shepard asked, looking over at Tali.

"The Migrant Fleet," Tali responded, nodding her head. "Usually, quarians don't visit other planets—we live and grow up on the ships on our Fleet. But when quarians come of age, they are sent on a Pilgrimage to find something of value to bring back."

"Why don't we see more quarians, though? You're the first one I've seen," Shepard asked.

"You maybe have already… I guess many quarians prefer to hide than to be out in the open," Tali said dejectedly. "People aren't very… fond of quarians."

The talk had given her some comfort—something that was definite, facts and knowledge that she could hide behind. These two humans had been so kind to her, and they had already done more for her than any other person in the entire galaxy.

But what they were just like Isaac? What if, now that they had their data, they were just going to lead her to some dark corner and shoot her?

"I—I still have more data," Tali stammered, trying to make it known that killing her would be a poor decision. "A-and the fleet is very powerful, and they wouldn't like it if a quarian went missing."

"Relax, Tali. You're safe with us," Shepard said again, nodding calmly to Tali. "We'll keep you safe. And besides—I don't think anyone wants to mess with us."

Tali shook the silliness out of her head. Kaidan and Shepard weren't like Isaac. When she had just begun her pilgrimage, she was naive, stupid. She hadn't seen the evil in Isaac's eyes because she wasn't looking for it. But in Kaidan? She could see determination there, sincerity. And in Shepard? She could see some things, like stubbornness, strength… but also pain. So much pain. She had noticed it first when Shepard had saved her from the guard back behind Chora's Den, but even after the fight was over, the pain was still there. Even when the man smiled, his eyes never changed.

But there was no cruelty in the men before her. They wouldn't hurt her—she hoped. And she also wished she still had her shotgun—not that she could use it when her arm was damaged as badly as it was.

"Where are we going?" Tali asked, still unsure of their destination as they had been meandering through the market stalls for the last few minutes.

"A hospital," Kaidan said. "You need to get that injury checked out."

"It's no big deal," Tali lied, suddenly afraid of being left alone again.

"It looks like a big deal," Shepard said. "Don't worry about payment—the Alliance will pay for your treatment."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," Tali said, only now realizing what she had been subconsciously trying to determine in her mind. "I want to stay with you two."

"Us?" Kaidan said. "But… it's dangerous. You saw the kind of people we deal with—and we have to do that every day."

Shepard nodded his agreement. "It's safer here, on the Citadel. We can even arrange a safe house where—"

"You don't understand," Tali said, speaking quickly as if she were going to be taken away if she didn't speak fast enough. "Y-you're the first people who have been good to me… everybody else pushes me, or calls me names, or… or shoots me," she added dryly.

"Well, what experience do you have?" Kaidan asked, apparently considering the decision.

"My father was one of the best engineers on the Fleet, and he taught me lots," Tali said, now speaking in a more controlled manner as she recited her list of accomplishments. "As well, I received weapons training from one of the Admirals of the Migrant Fleet. I've also already fought geth," she added with some pride.

"You fought geth?" Kaidan asked incredulously—little did she know Kaidan and Shepard had an extremely difficult time of dealing with the machines back on Eden Prime.

"Six of them," she said, a slight smile coming to her face. "At once."

"How did you manage to do that? Damn, Kaidan and I had trouble with just one," Shepard said, shaking his head with amusement.

"My father works with old geth a lot," Tali said, suddenly remembering having a very similar conversation with Isaac back on Illium. "And he's developed programs which can be used to temporarily take control of the geth by hiding a runtime within a large amount of garbage programming."

"So that's how you got the memory module?" Kaidan asked, now nodding his head as he began to understand.

"That was a code freeze," Tali said happily. "My father also designed it—it uploads multiple instances of a looping operation which force the geth to devote its processing capabilities to either carrying out the looping operations, or trying to rewrite it using its remaining resources. But it doesn't last for very long."

"I never realized you were so capable," Kaidan said, glancing over at Shepard.

"What kinds of weapons do you specialize in?" Shepard asked, likely noticing the fact that Tali had no weapons at her disposal.

"I had training with handguns and shotguns."

"Shouldn't you have a weapon with you, then?" Shepard said curiously.

"I did," Tali said, slightly bitter. "But I had to give it up when I ran away from Illium."

Kaidan looked over at Shepard once more, Shepard nodding his head.

"Alright," Kaidan said, looking at Tali. "We can't directly recruit you—we don't have the rank to do so—but I'm sure Anderson won't say no to you. We've been suffering from a lack of combat engineers—until Adams decides he wants to pick up the assault rifle," Kaidan said jokingly.

"But go to the hospital first," Shepard added, pointing to a large structure which was nearby now. "It shouldn't take too long—tell them that you're part of Captain Anderson's crew."

"Are you sure—"

"Absolutely. Without that arm, you're crippled," Shepard said, causing Tali to cringe slightly at the implied insult. "I got shot in the arm a few days ago too—and if I hadn't gotten any medical attention, we wouldn't have been able to meet you."

The impact of being called a cripple was very quickly washed away with a warm feeling that flowed through Tali's body at the happy sentiment. These people were definitely kinder than Isaac ever was—even with the kanniro.

"And if we had you, dealing with those geth might not have been so difficult," Kaidan added with a smirk.

"Don't worry, we won't leave without you," Shepard said, gently putting a hand on Tali's shoulder. "And take this," he said, handing a shotgun over to Tali. "Don't lose it, though—otherwise, I might lose count…" he trailed off, a sudden note of sorrow in his voice.

"Oh no, I'll be fine—" Tali began to say, before Shepard cut her off with an outstretched palm and a shake of his head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not useless without it," Shepard said, motioning to his sniper rifle and the pistol at his holster."

Tali nodded, not wanting to accept the weapons despite simultaneously really wanting a weapon to defend herself with. Her reason overruled her emotions, as she slowly handed the shotgun back to Shepard.

"Could… I use the pistol?" She asked in a low tone, afraid to make requests to these people who had been so kind to her.

"Good idea," Shepard said. "It's probably easier to use than a shotgun with only one hand."

Shepard slid the pistol from his holster, setting it down in Tali's palms.

"Thank you so much, Shepard and Kaidan."

"We'll see you at docking port C17—it's close to where we met the Council earlier."

Tali nodded, the warm smile on her face obscured by her mask.

Perhaps things had finally begun to turn around.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

As Shepard watched Tali walking away, he stood still for a moment before he began to turn around. As he was leaving, he heard someone in the distance yelling "Lieutenant Shepard!"

Shepard turned around to see one of the women who they had dropped off at the hospital earlier today—the one wearing the heavy suit of pink colored armor. She ran up to Shepard, giving him a quick salute as she began to speak.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. Lieutenant Shepard, Lieutenant Alenko, the husband of one of the soldiers from my squad is here. The hospital has her body, but refuses to let him have it. If you had time, sir, I was hoping you could help him."

"Let's go talk to him," Kaidan said, nodding to Shepard.

"Thank you, sir," Ashley said, turning around. "Just over here."

The two followed her over to a man who was sitting down on a chair outside of the front reception desk of the hospital, his face in his hands.

"Samesh Bhatia, this is Lieutenant Shepard and Lieutenant Alenko. They helped me save the colonists, along with your wife."

"Thank you for your service," the man said sincerely, standing up to shake their hands. "My wife died on Eden Prime, and they won't let me see her body. They won't even tell me why," he said, breaking up slightly.

"That sounds ridiculous," Shepard said, shaking his head. "They shouldn't withhold the body from eligible family members. It's part of Alliance protocol."

"Which is why I came to you for help, sir. I was hoping you could talk some sense into them—they wouldn't listen to me," Ashley said once more. "Doctor Elkins is the one in charge of her body.

"Don't worry," Kaidan said reassuringly. "We'll get this mess sorted out."

Kaidan and Shepard stepped away from Samesh, heading towards the front desk.

"Where could we find Doctor Elkins?" Kaidan asked to the young human lady who was working at the front desk.

"On the fourth floor of the hospital, room four hundred and eight," the woman replied.

After heading up the elevator, they rang the bell outside of the appropriate door, waiting for the doctor to come out. After a few moments, there was a slight hiss as the door slid open, a slim man wearing a white vest and a pair of thin spectacles stepped out, looking at the well-armed pair curiously.

"Yes?" he said somewhat irritably. "I'm very busy right now."

"Doctor Elkins?" Kaidan asked. When the man nodded his head quickly, Kaidan continued. "There is the body of a soldier here that her husband would like back."

"Not this again," the doctor said, turning around and shaking his head. "I told the last brute that we need to body to study, so that we can improve armor designs in the future to prevent against the kinds of wounds that she sustained."

"What kind of wounds did she sustain?" Shepard asked.

"It's not for you to see," the doctor said, waving him away. "Now, I'm busy—please leave."

"Alliance protocols state that it's not within your jurisdiction to determine whether or not you can hold the body of a soldier," Kaidan said, not budging.

"Screw protocol," the man said, exasperated. "People are dying out there—this body could prevent that. What does one man's suffering have to compare with a thousand men's lives?"

"Let me see the wounds," Shepard said, his voice deep and threatening.

The doctor sighed once more, shaking his head. "Fine—but do not touch the body in any way."

They stepped into the room which was sectioned off into many different areas with curtains that hung from the ceiling. In between the areas that were covered up, Shepard could see various medical supplies, ranging from the lowly scalpel to large machines which had purposes beyond Shepard's knowledge, and he could also see weapons and armor hanging on the wall as he progressed further into the room. Apparently this doctor dealt with more than just patients, as Shepard could see by the schematics located on the walls for armor designs and even one for a miniaturized handgun.

"Here is the body," Doctor Elkins said, drawing back one of the curtains to reveal a woman who lied nude on a medical bed, nearly her entire body covered in purple bruises, dark red and black burn wounds located near her shoulders and elbows, and the rest of her visible skin pale in color due to blood loss.

"Dear god," Kaidan said, shaking his head. "This was the woman who had sacrificed herself to save the colonists."

Doctor Elkins nodded his head slowly. "And she can save more lives if only her husband would allow me to keep the body for inspection."

Shepard looked around the small area, a silvery suit of combat armor sitting on the ground on the other side of the bed. It was just as bad as the woman was—dark black scars tracing across its surface, holes punched through the chest plate in many locations.

"Now, you can see why I need to keep the body for inspection. It requires deliberate study and examination to determine how to prevent wounds like these in the future."

"But look," Shepard said, pointing to the suit of armor sitting beside the bed. "It's obvious what happened—the rounds hit the chest plate, and the rounds slid along the metal place, right into the seam." Shepard ran his finger across the plate, following the bullet lines. "It happened over and over again—the bullets will just ride across the chest plate into the nearest seam. That's why there are so many bullet holes near her elbows, shoulders, stomach…"

The doctor nodded his head slowly in accordance with what Shepard was saying. "And look," Shepard said, gesturing to where the chest plate and the shoulder guard overlapped. "The bullets slid up the chest plate and slammed into the shoulder pad, sliding underneath and into her neck. This armor design would only be useful against stronger mass accelerator rounds—but then the plating is too thin."

"So how would you fix it then?" The doctor said, chewing on a nail.

"It's simple," Shepard said, nodding his head. "You change the way that these plates interlock—you make the shoulder plate go underneath the chest plate. Same with the stomach plate—that way, when a bullet hits the chest plate and skids, it goes off the armor instead of inside it."

The doctor sighed, as he shook his head, a slight smile on his face. "I'll be damned, you're right."

"So, do you still need the body?" Kaidan asked, a slightly stunned look on his face at Shepard's extensive knowledge of the failures of combat armor.

"Yes," the doctor said, nodding his head. "Even though you might have solved my armor issue, we still need to run tests on the wounds—find out what kind of damage they caused, and how we can treat it. This kind of damage isn't from just a regular mass accelerator round. No regular round would leave a burn like this."

"Doctor," Shepard said, looking the man in the eyes. "You can figure it out. You're a smart man. But do you need to hurt someone else to do it?"

"It's not a matter of hurting someone else, it's that we need the body in order to—"

"There is a man out there who is broken and damaged because the woman he loved is dead. Are you going to take away from him the only closure he can find?"

The doctor sighed, shaking his head. "Fine," he said in a quiet whisper. "The man can have the body."

Shepard nodded at the man once more before Kaidan and Shepard walked out of the office, closing the door behind them.

"I'll go get Samesh," Kaidan said, stepping into the elevator. Shepard nodded to him, deciding to wait upstairs. It would give him time with his thoughts.

When Shepard had seen the body, it had surprised him—even scared him. That a human, a person once capable of thought, logic, a person who was once filled with hopes, dreams, and aspirations was now merely a carcass.

Life had so much potential—yet it was squandered. This woman had sacrificed her life to save a group of colonists, and yet Fist and Markus both lied dead on the ground, but what had they accomplished?

And what of the friends he had left behind on Akuze? What had they accomplished in their death? _Nothing, nothing at all,_Shepard thought bitterly. They had given up their lives for nothing.

Shepard bent down and pulled the knife from his boot as he had done so many times before, grasping onto the worn handle, feeling peace from this icon of what had once been. The icon of Shepard's wrath, his vengeance. The image of those soldier suddenly appearing out from behind the walls of the ruins, heavy black armor with a red stamp on it. The men he would find, the men he would kill. He would make them all suffer—an hour for every minute of suffering he had experienced.

The elevator door slid open, revealing Kaidan, Ashley and Samesh as they stepped into the hallway. Shepard took a deep breath, relaxing his face as he had only now realized was curled into a pained snarl. Shepard took another deep breath, trying to find solace within himself as he watched the trio walking towards him from the end of the hall. This man was like him—a man who had lost all that was important in life. But he would heal—it was evident in the way that he carried himself, the slight glimmer still present in his eyes. He had a soul that wouldn't be crushed—couldn't be crushed. But as for Shepard…

The door to the medical lab slid open once more as everybody entered the room, the doctor having moved the bed with the woman's body on it closer to the entrance. Samesh's eyes widened, seeing the brutally scarred and bruised body simply lying there, his mouth agape.

"Nirali," he whispered, slowly stepping forwards to his dead love. Samesh fell onto his knees beside the bed, grasping onto Nirali's body with what little will he had left. He began to sob, tears flowing from his eyes as he cursed those who had taken her away from him.

"She died a hero," Ashley quietly said from behind Samesh, putting a hand on his shoulder. "She gave her life to save thirty six defenseless civilians from certain death."

Samesh was still for a few moments before he quietly said "Tell me of her last moments."

Ashley nodded, standing still as she recited the events.

"The geth had trapped us and thirty six civilians inside of a storage container. We locked the doors and blocked entrance, but the geth weren't going to give up. They were firing rockets at the walls of the container, and they had planned to blow the entire crate up with seventy five pounds of explosives, as we learned later." Ashley paused for a few moments before continuing.

"We received a report that we were receiving assistance from a group which had landed on the planet's surface not long ago. When we heard gunfire from outside, we took the opportunity to try and escape. We opened the doors when the geth were distracted. But the rescue party wasn't enough." Ashley looked over at Shepard and Kaidan somewhat apologetically, likely not wanting to sound completely ungrateful.

"Nirali Bhatia saw that if the geth focused their attention back to the civilians, they would have killed them all in minutes. She bravely chose to divert their attention, which allowed the civilians… and I… to escape."

Samesh stood up slowly, still looking down at the body. "Then I am pleased that her last moments were that of a hero."

Samesh turned around, briefly meeting everybody's eyes with his pained expression. "Thank you for everything you have done for me. I will make sure that my wife is buried properly."

They left Samesh with the doctor as they left the room, nobody wanting to speak after what they had just witnessed. Finally, Ashley nodded a few times before speaking to them.

"Thank you for helping. Nirali was a great person, and her husband loved her so much… I just wanted to make sure that she got what she would have wanted."

"It's important that we all get some peace," Kaidan said as they stepped onto the elevator. "But shouldn't you be getting treatment or something?"

"I ran off when they weren't looking," Ashley said with a smirk. "I wasn't that badly wounded—only a few scrapes, so I thought that I would sneak out. And then I ran into Samesh. Also, I wanted to ask something… I would like to request a transfer to the crew of the Normandy."

Kaidan gave Shepard a quick glance of amusement, before looking back at Ashley. "Neither of us have explicit control over recruitment, but considering your track record… I'm sure Captain Anderson would be fine with the transfer."

"Thank you, sir," Ashley said. "Most of my old platoon were put out of action on Eden Prime… so I was probably going to be reassigned either way."

"Head over to Docking Bay C17. We're leaving in a few hours," Kaidan said.

"Also," Shepard added. "If you find a quarian on the way, point her in the right direction."

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'm going to do as best as I can to stick to my general uploading schedule (being every three days), but I can't make any promises as I'm all over the place lately, but I've been keeping a chapter ahead so that I can always fall back on it if I need to.

If you've been reading my tale with any kind of discerning eye, please let me know in either a review, private message, or an email (found on my bio) with your thoughts and comments on how the series is going so far. Eventually, I want to be able to find myself in a position where I'm able to take my own liberties with the story—adding new planets, weapons, technologies, etcetera, without shooting myself in the leg too badly. I'm also trying to skirt my way around other stories that I've read (such as Razor's Edge, which I feel like I'm running in the shadow of) without completely ripping off their ideas. So, if you feel that I'm cloning any stories too closely (which I hope isn't a problem because I've honestly only read two), make sure to let me know!

I've recently started reading Drew Karpyshyn's "Revelations", which has opened my eyes to some ways I can improve my writing in the future while simultaneously making my own writing look woefully inadequate. Perhaps I'm being overly critical, myself being aware of most of the flaws, but either way, I'll try and iron out what I can in the future chapters to come.

I really should be saving these personal little bits for something like a blog (which I don't have) but I don't mind typing little updates like these out. It makes the whole writing process feel a little more personal, even though I only have a couple of followers at this time and potentially around 100 people viewing each chapter the day of release. But, if you enjoy my story, be sure to follow and favorite—it's definitely not a required action, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside from the implied compliment.

Anyways, until next time, have a great day/evening, and thanks again!


	9. Buzzer

**:: Chapter Nine :: **Buzzer **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Night is cold,_

_And my soul is battered,_

_Not afraid for the first time now that I realize_

_It's shelter from the rain._

_It's a dark and stormy night,_

_But I'm always there,_

_I am the footprints to your right,_

_In your darkest lonely night,_

_Heed a voice to take you higher._

_-Avantasia-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Garrus sat perched on top of a rail in the middle of the Presidium, toying with his sniper rifle while he waited.

Markus and Fist were dead—the criminals who had been plaguing C-Sec around these parts for the better part of a year were finally dead. No more death threats, no more bribery, and no more red tape. But that last part wasn't true.

C-Sec had always held him up—even in the past, before Markus and Fist even mattered. Before anybody knew their names. One time, a batarian who had broken into three different weapons stores paid off Garrus' old captain for safety, and the greedy old turian hadn't let Garrus go after him—claiming that he would have had Garrus expulsed for insubordination and disrespect. Whether he would have was a different question—but Garrus didn't have the balls to stand against the man.

But this time had been different—he had cut through the red tape, and had stopped a pair of murderers. But at what risk? They had been paying off half of C-Sec, and had another quarter wedged into a corner with death threats. If he hadn't been able to kill them both, or if those two strangers hadn't dealt with Fist…

In fact, without those two strangers, Garrus would have certainly been in a tighter spot that he was in even now. He likely wouldn't have made it out of that alleyway alive—his only advantage was stealth, and as soon as they realized where he was—which wouldn't be long after he fired his second shot—he would lose that advantage and would be forced to take down another five men single-handedly—something that even Garrus, with his marksman aim, simply wasn't prepared to do.

John Shepard. Kaidan Alenko. The two people who had probably saved Garrus' life—not to mention the lives of numerous other people related to C-Sec. The same two people who he was waiting for now. After he had left the two of them with Tali, he had ran back to C-Sec to try and search through the databases to find out what he could about the pair. Kaidan was fairly nondescript, other than his biotic abilities. He had a couple of service medals and more than a few missions under his belt, but Shepard's record was certainly much more interesting.

He was hailed as the "Hero of Elysium" in the Systems Alliance, as a result of holding off a batarian attack of nearly two hundred soldiers for four hours. How the man had managed that was unbeknownst to Garrus—but having lived through something like that probably made him pretty tough. Also curious in his record was his Akuze mission—listed seven casualties, one survivor—John Shepard. The man wasn't a stranger to loss, if nothing else could be said about him. How close he might have been to those other men was a mystery—he seemed to operate pretty well on his own, so it was unlikely that they could have been more than a party that was thrown together by circumstance.

With any luck, Garrus would be fighting alongside them once again, and perhaps many times—assuming that they would let him join up with them.

Garrus was done with C-Sec—it wasn't going to be getting any better, and besides… there were bigger criminals than simple pickpockets and muggers. Saren was on the loose, one of the galaxy's most reputed Spectres, and he was wreaking havoc across the galaxy. He had to be stopped—after all, he was giving turians a bad public image. From what he could tell, based on a live feed of their meeting with the Council, the group had planned to pursue Saren with or without Council support, and if that was their objective, then Garrus would definitely need to be tagging along.

The familiar forms of Shepard and Kaidan appeared out of the corner of his eyes, their combat armor dully shining in the artificial light that was spread throughout the Citadel. He had known they would come here—their ship was docked nearby, according to the records he had accessed. Not wanting to miss his chance, he ran up to the pair, calling their names as he approached.

"Shepard, Kaidan! Garrus Vakarian. You helped me take out Markus and—"

"Yeah, it wasn't _that_ long ago," Kaidan said, a smirk on his face. "What can we do for you?"

"Well, I wanted to come along with you," Garrus said, noting the curious glances that the two passed each other. "I saw your meeting with the Council. If you're taking down Saren, I want to be a part of it."

"Well, we don't directly oversee recruitment," Kaidan said somewhat wearily, "But if you want to, follow us over to docking bay C17."

"With all the others," Garrus heard Shepard saying under his breath. Garrus nodded to the pair, glad to have an opportunity to join up—even if it hadn't been decided yet.

"Come on, just up this elevator," Kaidan said, stepping into the metal capsule.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

As they exited the elevator, Shepard looked around once more, taking in the majesty that was the Citadel. It really was a beautiful place, Shepard thought, thinking of Tali's words earlier. But it was a place filled with crime and scum and hate… but also love and compassion and sorrow. Which of the two would prove to be more plentiful was still unforeseeable. Down at the end of the dock, Ashley stood by idly, while Captain Anderson and a few other workers accompanied him. At closer glance—and to Shepard's displeasure—Udina also stood with him.

"Hello, boys," Anderson said giving Shepard and Kaidan a salute. "I see you've found us a new recruits."

"Three actually—they came begging," Kaidan said with a chuckle. "We thought that you might want to give them an overview. We're in need of specialty soldiers in addition to our regular garrison of soldiers."

"I'll consider it, but I won't be choosing," Anderson said, looking between the two. Shepard frowned slightly, not liking the idea of leaving them behind.

"I'm not going back on the Normandy," Anderson said, frowning slightly.

"What?" Kaidan said, a concerned look on his face. "Why not?"

"The Alliance wants me back here. It turns out that we've got geth attacks all across our lower borders, and even a few key attacks in the upper areas as well. They also want me on the Citadel, so that I can make sure that the Council doesn't get any ideas after we begin our attack on Saren."

"Our attack on Saren? Already?" Shepard said, somewhat surprised that the man was still so confident in his belief of Saren's guilt. Tali's data had done quite a bit to prove that Saren was behind this, but his motivations were still beyond comprehensible. Trying to take down an operation like his without any understanding of his goals would only get them so far—and once Tali's data lost its relevance, they would be forced to simply guess and hope they guessed correctly—a tactic which would cost far too many lives.

"Are we certain enough to launch an attack on Saren?" Kaidan said, similar thoughts likely passing through his mind.

"Not yet, which is where you will come in. _Commander_ Shepard will be taking control of the Normandy, as well as all personnel on board." He continued to speak despite the stunned expression that Shepard was giving him. "I want you to head to key locations as determined by the data we've recovered, and begin undermining Saren's operation. Find out what you can. I'll hold the home front, and make sure his forces don't break through. You're going to bring him down."

"But… Captain," Shepard began, uncertain of his sudden advancement. "I don't think that I'm qualified as commander—"

"Nonsense. You have plenty of leadership experience. Your combat skills are exceptional, and I know that you're going to do what is right for all of us. I've seen it before," he added wistfully.

Shepard merely nodded. Was he ready for this promotion? The last time had had a squad under his command, he had let them to their deaths. Why give him an opportunity to do the same thing again?

Those days had been some of his best—leading his friends against whatever threat faced them, no matter the size. They had earned their keep on Elysium—holding their position that day had been glorious and wonderful… but it didn't even matter when they were all dead.

"Anderson," Shepard found himself saying. "The last time I had command of a squad, they all ended up lying on the ground, dead."

"And I know that you wouldn't let it happen ever again—not even if it cost you your own life. You've got more in you than you know, son. Trust me on this one."

Shepard stood silently, not knowing what to say in response to his comment.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, you've got a few new recruits to be considering. I'm heading off now. Take good care of the Normandy for me." And with that, Anderson turned around and walked away, taking Udina with him, heading down the stairs.

Shepard looked helplessly at Kaidan—slightly guilty that he had received a promotion that put him in a higher position than Kaidan despite having only been on the Normandy for a few weeks—but the only response the man gave him was a reassuring nod and smile.

"Well, how many soldiers do you think we're capable of recruiting?" Shepard asked Kaidan with another helpless glance over at the Normandy—which was now _his_ ship—at least until Anderson returned.

"Probably close to ten," Kaidan said. "We're fairly understaffed—though if we're taking on turians and quarians, it's going to take some changes down in the med bay and with ration distribution."

"Turians are dextro-based, right?"

"That's right," Garrus said from behind him. "That means we can't eat anything that you humans and asari do."

"What about quarians? Are they dextros too?"

"Yes," Kaidan said, "But they're also known for the weak immune systems. That's why the quarian we saved earlier was wearing that suit—it protects her from anything that could harm her."

"That explains a lot—I had been meaning to ask about that. But will we need to make any special accommodations for her?"

"It's hard to say, Shepard—I mean, I certainly haven't worked with any quarians before. But I would expect to be stocking up on antibiotics and other medical drugs—I doubt that she stays healthy too long the way she seems to be attracting bullets—and I don't even know how we could make food safe for quarians. We might even need to invest in a food sterilization machine of some sort."

Shepard let out a silent sigh, weighing the possible risks. According to what she said, she was a capable engineer with tested combat abilities—though there was no evidence to back what she said. When they had found Markus about to kill her, Shepard had briefly noticed the shields of most of the soldiers surrounding her flickering momentarily—perhaps that was her doing? If so, that was certainly a quick reaction considering the fact that she was about to die.

"I'll consider it," Shepard said, not realizing that he was already quoting Anderson from their brief exchange moments ago. "What about you, Garrus? What kind of combat training do you have?"

"Well, I've been putting bullets into the heads of criminals for the past six years—or at least I wish I could have been. Extensive sniper rifle training, decent small arms training, sub-par shotgun training. But I doubt you need anyone else with a shotgun—I think you've got that covered," Garrus said, motioning to the shotgun at Shepard's hip.

"That's true," Kaidan said. "Since our last in-house marksman was… killed in action, we've been in need of someone providing long range support."

"Certainly," Shepard replied, trying not to cringe as he thought of Jenkins. "Welcome aboard."

Garrus nodded, his expression changing to something which Shepard assumed was satisfaction or happiness, and turned towards Ashley, who was still patiently waiting down at the end of the docking bay.

"What about her?" Shepard asked, nodding his head towards Ashley.

"I think we could use her as well," Kaidan said, shrugging. "Nothing exceptional—but another good soldier is always something we could use. We could always check out her military records, since she's in the Alliance databases."

"Take her. I don't think she's going to shirk down a fight any time soon."

"What about the quarian?"

"What about _Tali?_" Shepard said, stressing her name. "I think we'll take her as well—like you said earlier, unless Adams plans on—"

"Carrying a gun and following us into combat. Alright, I see your point. But it might get expensive—and I'm not sure if the Alliance approves of us wasting credits on extra antibiotics and life support."

"I wouldn't consider it a waste if she can help us against the geth," Shepard replied. "Why are you so uncertain about this now? I was thinking that you thought she was useful."

"Well, she seemed nice and all, but after I started thinking about it, it just didn't seem right. I mean, if she's got combat training, that's fine—but there are hundreds of Alliance engineers who would jump for the chance to get onto a ship like the Normandy—and I'm sure we could even find a couple with similar combat experience. And, between you and me…" Kaidan said, leaning in closely to Shepard. "I've heard that quarians are prone to thievery. There's a lot of expensive tech on the Normandy. This is a one of a kind, prototype design, and if it got leaked…"

"I don't think that would be a problem," Shepard said, shaking his head. "Besides, there's nowhere to run while we're in space."

"Well, you're the Commander. If you think she's good, then I'll hold you to that."

Kaidan began to turn and walk towards the Normandy before Shepard called out to him once more.

"And Kaidan? You're not mad about the promotion?"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I trust Anderson—and I know he picked you for a reason. Probably the same reason he brought you on board. So as long as you don't give me anything to mutiny over, I'm at your side."

Shepard nodded, wondering how he had ever earned the man's respect after killing off one of his friends only a few days ago. The fact he hadn't held that against Shepard to this point had amazed him—he hadn't expected to see the man smiling at him for a long time—yet there he was, still friendly and even trusting. But that wouldn't help him if he was dead.

"Ashley!" Shepard called out to the woman, who was still waiting down the deck. She quickly ran up to him, apparently anxiously waiting for some kind of approval while pretending to be observing the ship. "Welcome aboard, Ashley."

"Thank you sir," Ashley said, giving Shepard a quick salute. "I'll make you proud."

"You're accustomed to the Normandy?"

"Yes sir," she said while nodding her head. "I know my way around well enough to start."

"Then I'll see you around," Shepard said, nodding to her.

Shepard looked around—something was still missing. But how could something be missing? He had only been holding this command for a few minutes—it's not like anything could have piled up on him. Of course—Tali wasn't here! He had just spent the last few minutes arguing with Kaidan about the logistics of taking Tali aboard—and here, she hadn't even arrived yet.

A slight disappointment filled Shepard, but perhaps it was for the better than she wasn't here. She was still young, from what Shepard could tell, and she deserved to live her life in peace instead of the constant war which he was going to be taking his squad to. No matter what kind of skills she had, no kind of bullet or piece of software would protect her from losing her innocence, her selflessness. It wasn't until you saw the blood of war, the dead bodies on the ground, that you realized how fragile life was, how desperate conflict can make people, and how terrible people can be when forced to fight.

But she had seen conflict—she had already been nearly murdered—yet she still had that step in her stride, that glimmer in her eyes. Even with the dark purple mask she wore over top of her face, her eyes still struck him—he could almost see the details, the way that they seemed to faintly glow. Her eyes were the same as Samesh—the man who hadn't seen war, someone who hadn't been exposed to the bloodshed, the brutality. Somehow, Tali had seen it all, yet she hadn't been affected by it.

But it wasn't worth risking it again—how many dead bodies, how many buckets of blood would it take to lose such a thing? And when that moment came, would Shepard even want to see it?

He knew the answer in his heart, and even the weight of logistics and reason couldn't hold him back—he wanted Tali on his crew. _His_ crew—the phrase felt odd and strange in his brain. But it was his crew. And if he could choose who he wanted to be with him—that little spark of light would need to be there. The small flare of hope that he might someday be whole once more.

But she wasn't coming. Shepard slowly turned around, taking a deep sighed as he made his way towards the airlock of the Normandy.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Oh, keelah, I hope I'm not too late!" Tali muttered to herself as she ran past the hustle and bustle of the people wandering throughout the Presidium, deftly dodging in between people where she could, trying not to slow down. The hospital wouldn't let her go until they had run a full diagnostic and provided her with some extra antibiotics—which were certainly appreciated—but the extra time in the hospital made it tough to get to the Normandy.

Not to mention that she had initially started travelling in the wrong direction, realizing after twenty minutes that she had never seen this area of the Citadel before, forcing herself to ask directions from the strange VIs that were scattered throughout the Citadel.

Upon realizing her mistake, she had bolted as quickly as she could back in the other direction, but it wasn't going to be enough. Shepard had told her to be back seventeen minutes ago—the ship could have already left, for all she knew. And how she so badly wanted to be on that ship! To finally fight against Saren, against the geth—both villains of the galaxy. Perhaps she could even glean more information from geth they encountered in the future—maybe information that could help her race retake their home world someday—but that was a dream for another day—especially if she couldn't make it to the docking bay in time.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of the dark skinned man who Shepard had called "Captain Anderson" earlier, walking towards her. If he wasn't with the ship… then it meant that the ship hadn't left yet! She could still make it in time!

"Captain Anderson!" Tali shouted out, running to the man. "The Normandy hasn't left yet?"

"I believe it will be soon," he said while giving her a slightly curious look. "I won't be joining Commander Shepard this time."

_Commander?_ Tali thought to herself. Hadn't he been a lieutenant just a few hours ago? But there was no time for those thoughts! If Anderson wasn't joining the ship, then they might have already left—but she still had to try.

"Thank you!" she shouted, running past Anderson as he gave her a slight smirk as she ran up the stairs which were labelled "Docking Bay C17."

As she rounded the top of the stairs, the familiar armor that Shepard had donned became visible, his frame slowly making his way into the side airlock of the Normandy.

"Shepard!" she shouted, not knowing what to preface his name with, considering the two different ranks which she had been presented with. He quickly spun around, his face appearing to brighten slightly as he caught sight of her.

"Tali!" he shouted back. "I thought you weren't going to make it!"

"I'm sorry," Tali began to say, "I got caught up in the hospital and then they wanted to run extra medical examinations, and then I started heading in the wrong direction but I got some help from one of the VIs over on the other side of the Presidium, but then I didn't have much time so… Uhm, I ran here. I hope I'm not too late," she said, chastising herself slightly for blabbering on continuously. What mattered was that she was here now.

"That's fine," Shepard said. "What's important is that you arrived here without another bullet wound. How are you feeling?"

"I'm much better now—the doctors used some kind of injection that's supposed to make me heal fast, and also a bunch of painkillers that should let me still do my work."

"Come on, we're just about to leave," Shepard said, heading towards the airlock once more.

Tali followed him, taking the first pause she had to momentarily scan the sides of the ship—a fairly small vessel, but magnificently streamlined in such a way that it looked dangerous—like it was ready to pounce at any given moment. It was certainly in much better condition that most of the ships that could be found in the Fleet. Since they had to scavenge a lot of their ships and parts, most of the ships they had were hundreds of years old—a few even from the Morning War—and many of them had certainly seen better days.

"This ship looks amazing… It's much more extravagant than most of the ships in the Fleet."

"You'll have to tell me about the Fleet sometime—I haven't met any quarians other than you, before."

"Like I said, there aren't many quarians… and most of them are either in the Fleet or elsewhere."

"Well, then I'm glad to have one of them on my ship." Tali smiled slightly at the compliment, a rare commodity back on the Fleet.

"Where should I begin?" Tali asked Shepard, looking down the flight deck which they had just entered—a grand-looking hallway that was dotted with terminals all along the sides and had a large table at one end which held what appeared to be a galactic map. This ship was certainly a step up from almost any ship on the Fleet.

"You said that you had a lot of experience with engineering, right?" When Tali nodded, Shepard continued. "I guess you could go and help Engineer Adams with whatever he needs. You just head down the stairs over on that side, and take the elevator down to the lower level. The engine core is just on the back side of the elevator."

"I'll make sure to get to work right away," Tali said, already heading in that direction with her small bag of belongings.

"I'll also make sure to get you a locker to put your personal stuff into—or you could remind Kaidan to do it as well. Consider him my second in command—if I'm not around, ask him. He probably knows more about this ship than I do, anyways. This promotion is kind of silly. I've only been on this ship for a few weeks, and I'm already outranking everyone on it. It just feels wrong."

"I don't think so," Tali said, shaking her head. "You seem to be doing very well."

Shepard gave her a tired smile. "Maybe… but the last time I had this kind of command…" Shepard trailed off, shaking his head. "Make sure to check out with Doctor Chakwas as well, down in the medical bay on the second floor. We need to make sure that we have any supplies that you might need in case of an emergency.

Tali nodded to him once more. "Is there anything else, Commander Shepard?"

Shepard shook his head slightly, a smirk making its way onto his face. "Not unless you don't know how to use a _sleeper pod._"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

So far, everything had been in order—command had been easy to slip back into, even if it was a position that he had been reluctant to accept. It felt natural to him, something familiar—which was more than he could say about most of what he had been doing lately. Anything familiar was certainly a blessing in times like these.

Shepard idly walked about the main deck of the Normandy, pacing back and forth up the main deck for something to do. The day—or rather two days—that he had been awake had been great. For once, everything seemed to feel… normal. The specter of his great failure had been slowly fading, leaving him feeling real—like he felt before Akuze. But he knew that as soon as he tried to sleep, those dreams would plague him once again, tearing his soul from him, shredding him and his new found humanity, rendering him an empty husk once more. Shepard stifled a yawn as he looked down the deck of his ship once more—_his ship_. How long would it be until it felt familiar?

There were few people up at this time of night—only a couple of crewmembers typing idly at a couple of consoles populated the hallway, the slight hum of the Normandy's systems the only sound filling Shepard's ears. The galaxy map was lit in the center of the hall, providing an orange-colored glow to the room. The perch above the map used to be a location reserved exclusively for the navigator, or the captain of the ship. Shepard walked up the steps above the galaxy map, leaning against the railings as he looked down at the hologram, flitting between various planets, status reports lighting up as the planets changed, some planets reporting low food supplies, others reporting an outbreak of some disease, and a couple flashing red as they reported attacks from unknown enemies.

Shepard sighed, taking in all the new responsibilities that he had taken under his wing. Anderson had said that he would be taking care of the colonies, mitigating their losses as much as he could—but watching planets burn wasn't pleasant. Because Shepard wasn't acting, because he wasn't there to help… people were dying… innocent people. How many Tali's were there on each of those planets? Strong people with hopes and dreams, people who still held that spark of innocence in their eyes, untainted with the cruelty of war.

But it wasn't his responsibility. He had to trust Anderson to take care of it—to make sure that nobody was hurt.

Shepard let out a short laugh, realizing where his line of thought had taken him. He had remembered only a few short months ago when he couldn't have cared less about who else was caught in the crossfire—nothing had mattered to him anymore. After he had lost everything… nothing had sustained him, nothing could fill the gaping emptiness that filled him. But here he was, fretting and worrying about colonies that were millions of miles away from him, people that he had never met, and people that he would never likely meet. Perhaps there was a chance for him to be healed once more.

As Shepard yawned once more, he shook his head, deciding that meandering his way around the main deck wasn't going to keep him awake much longer—he was bound to collapse and start snoring away on the main deck if he wasn't careful. He mindlessly walked forwards towards the front of the ship, looking for something to keep his mind occupied. He walked into the cockpit, leaning forward on the expansive control panel, looking out the great window, staring into the great abyss, stars lightly flickering off in the distance.

"Can I help you, Commander?" Joker said from his large seat beside Shepard, causing him to start slightly. He hadn't realized that the man had been sitting there.

"I didn't realize that you were there, Joker," Shepard said, nodding to the man. "What are you doing up this late?"

"I'm always around here—there's nothing better for me to do around this ship. Besides, someone has to pilot the ship."

Shepard nodded, still looking out at the great void outside the window. "How's it flying?"

Joker gave Shepard a suspicious glance before saying "Fine. How's it commanding?"

"Just feels too natural," Shepard confided in Joker. "Seems too familiar."

Joker nodded to him as he continued to press various buttons on the holographic display in front of him. Shepard sat down in the co-pilot's seat—the same seat that Anderson had sat in so many times—as he turned to face Joker again.

"So, why did Anderson choose you?" Shepard absentmindedly asked, considering the three new recruits which he had just taken on today.

"Oh, god, don't tell me you've looked through the records," Joker said, shaking his head, his tone becoming angry. "Look, I'm the best damned pilot in the Alliance, and Vrolik's doesn't change that. Just because all of a sudden you're the big ol' Captain, doesn't mean you just get to throw me out the window."

Shepard cast a confused glance over at Joker, not understand what he had done to raise the man's ire. "I haven't looked at any records—and I wasn't planning on getting rid of you any time soon. Hell, I don't even know where I start looking for a new pilot."

"Oh, well, shit," Joker said, looking down somewhat sheepishly. "Well, I still meant it—you're not going to find a better pilot anywhere in the Alliance."

Shepard nodded his concession before asking "What's Vrolik's?"

Joker sighed for a moment before speaking again. "Means your bones like to snap as often as the R&B Sisters—well, if they were still alive. Just means I can't roll around the field like you guys do."

"Could you get something like that cured?" Shepard asked. He was pretty sure that he had seen people who had received bone implants which provided extra strength—mostly for the purposes of military operations, but the same theory should still apply to someone like Joker.

"Nah, nothing to do for me. I'm lucky to even be alive, the doctors said. If I had been born thirty years earlier, they probably would have tossed me out the back door as soon as they saw me. I'm honestly surprised they didn't."

"Well, if you're as good as you say, then you've done damn good."

"Yeah. Maybe."

Shepard stood back up, sensing that their conversation was coming to a close—and Shepard had no intentions of hanging around in that awkward atmosphere.

Shepard slowly walked towards the main stairwell, not really sure of where he was going, his soft shoes—a part of the uniform that Kaidan said he should wear—lightly tapping on the metal flooring. He stepped into the elevator, pressing on the button for the second floor, listening to the slight hum as the elevator descended down a floor.

He stepped out into the main armory, where most of the storage lockers for the crewmembers were located. The Mako was also in the back corner—apparently for some kind of repairs or upgrades, based on the various supplies and scraps strewn about its exterior. It felt as if he were on a ghost ship of some sort—nobody habited the area, leaving Shepard to the pitter-patter of his footsteps and the quiet hum of the mass effect core in engineering next door.

He stepped around the corner, heading down the ramp towards the great, glowing mass effect core which pulsed with energy every few seconds. In front of it was a couple of small control panels, once of which Tali stood at.

"Tali?" Shepard asked. "I thought you would be asleep. It's late."

"I couldn't get to sleep," Tali said. "So I thought that I would come here and maybe get some work done."

"Something wrong with the sleeper pods?" Shepard asked with a slight smile, recalling his first few days with the odd machines.

"No, no, they're fine. It's just… too quiet."

"Too quiet?" Shepard asked, not understanding how a place could be too quiet to sleep in. "What do you mean?"

"Well, on the Fleet, when everything is quiet, it means that something has gone wrong. It could be an air filter or the mass effect core—which is terrifying. But the Normandy is so quiet—even though the core is bigger than the cores in almost any ship on the Fleet."

"What is the Fleet like?" Shepard asked, leaning up on the railing against the mass effect core.

"There are thousands of ships, and almost every single one is different. We've spent the last few hundred years maintaining old ships, salvaging scraps and building new ships, or buying cheap ships from people who are willing to sell them. Most of the quarians live on the Fleet—and the Fleet sort of floats around from system to system, sometimes buying extra supplies, sometimes searching from extra materials or scraps."

"Don't you have a planet or a colony to return to?"

"We used to," she said with a slightly bitter edge. "But the geth took it away from us three hundred years ago, in the Morning War."

"You mentioned that your people knew the geth better than anyone else—what happened in the Morning War? Did the geth attack your home planet?"

"You could say that. We created the geth, but then they attacked us and forced us to live on our ships."

"I thought that creating AIs was forbidden, even back then?"

"It was, but we never intended to make an AI. We used them like serving robots, to help us with daily tasks, to make our lives easier. But then they turned on us—they had grown more intelligent by linking their operating protocols together, creating a networked AI. And then they turned on us." Tali's voice turned somber. "There used to be billions of quarians living on Rannoch. And now… now there are only seventeen million."

Shepard nodded his head, taking in what she had said. Losing that many people… the Morning War must have been a genocide.

"How do you get food on the Fleet?" Shepard asked, trying to move their topic away from where it had travelled.

"We grow it ourselves, mostly. Some of the ships on the Fleet are designed solely for the purpose of growing plants and even cultivating a few animals."

"Really? What do quarian plants and animals look like? They must be different, since quarians are dextro-based."

"Well, they're not too different, actually," Tali said, shaking her head. "Most of the plants are pretty similar—they're dark green colored, but I think they're thicker than most human plants. Lett-uss is a human plant, right?"

Shepard smiled slightly at the odd pronunciation that Tali had used. "Lettuce," he corrected. "It is."

Tali nodded. "Lettuce. I don't know how to describe the animals to you, but a common one—it's called a _kanniro_—is sort of like a chicken. Only its neck is longer and it's kind of blue colored."

"It's strange how similar quarians and humans are, even though we came from opposite ends of the galaxy."

"Quarians actually look similar to humans—but nobody would know it because of these masks."

"Really? You look similar to a human?"

"Well, sort of. I mean, I have two eyes and a nose, and… um… well, I can't really describe it, because its… well, you know."

"I understand what you mean," Shepard said. "Kaidan said that you had to wear those suits because you had weak immune systems?"

"Basically," Tali said, regaining her composure. Apparently delving into the realm of what was known made Tali comfortable. "It's actually more like an acute allergic reaction. On Rannoch, most of the bacteria and other micro-organisms actually work in a mutually beneficial relationship with most other creatures, so we never built up any strong immune systems. After we left our home planet, we built these suits so that it would be safer if we travelled to any other planets. And wearing them for three hundred years hasn't made our immune systems any stronger."

"Kaidan was worried that you might need additional medical supplies or extra care. Do we need to buy any extra supplies or machines to take care of you?"

Shepard noticed Tali's shoulders slump slightly, her voice suddenly harder.

"No, there are no issues. I can take care of myself. I should return to work—I shouldn't stay up all night." Tali turned around back towards her terminal, rapidly typing away. What Shepard had done to upset her was beyond him.

With nothing else to do, Shepard meandered his way back upstairs, and headed through the doors which led to Anderson's cabin—or rather, _his_ cabin. It felt a little strange—he had always been used to cramped quarters, lockers, and other small areas to keep his personal belongings, but this felt a bit excessive. It was a fairly good sized room—not huge, but certainly larger than any room he had the pleasure to call his own. At one end was a lavatory which had a toilet, sink, and a closed off shower, and at the other was a small desk with a few drawers and cabinets. Apparently Anderson had planned on leaving the Normandy—none of his personal belongings were to be found anywhere in the room.

A fairly comfy looking bed also lied on the other side of the room, red colored sheets seeming to be a bit excessive for Shepard. Other than that, there wasn't much else in the room—but it was already so much more than he was used to.

Without much thought, Shepard reached into one of the cabinets on the desk, and pulled out a metal grey box while he sat down. It was something he had gotten the requisitions agent to pick up for him—a small machinists kit. Shepard had always enjoyed toying around with the things around him—and it wasn't just by chance that he had known most of the major flaws of the generic suit of Alliance distributed combat armor. He had spent more than a few hours examining the suits, their fasteners, and devising ideas on how they could be improved, and writing them down in a little note pad—which he had sadly left behind on his old ship. But it wasn't a huge deal—it gave him room to start anew.

He flipped open the top of the grey box, revealing three trays which slid out, each with segmented areas filled with various things. There were screws, motors, a couple of resistors, a bunch of metal wires, as well as a bunch of various tools. There were enough things in here to keep him occupied for a few weeks, if he so chose.

Shepard had messed around with his cloaking module a few months ago, switching up some of the wiring and software so that when he came under fire, his shields wouldn't take priority over his cloak—which was a feature hardwired into all cloaking modules as per galactic regulations. That would cause the module to momentarily fail as its power surged to the shield, providing some extra protection, but completing dispelling the advantage of surprise. As far as Shepard could tell, if he was invisible, he wouldn't be getting shot at, and with enough maneuvering, he would be able to make his way through any firefight without walking into a bullet.

Almost without any thought, Shepard picked up a motor and a few pieces of wire, hooking them up to a battery as well as a small microchip which he could program after he hooked everything together. Bringing up his omni-tool, he quickly wrote a program which would activate the circuit for an hour before disabling it, before packing away the microchip, motor and wires into a small black box where they fit snugly into place. A magnetic clip would fit onto the outside of the box, and then it was finished.

Shepard pressed the button on the outside of the metal box, and the harsh noise of the motor began to sound. No, that wasn't right.

Shepard opened up the box once more, switching out the power supply he had used for a smaller one which would hopefully make the motor spin more slowly. A small gear went onto the end of the motor, and inside of the metal box, Shepard wrapped the gear with a thin sheet of plastic which would make the noise a little bit softer. With some satisfaction, he closed the box once again, and when he pressed the button, a soft humming noise came from the box, not too loud, but certainly loud enough to keep him awake.

But it wouldn't be keeping him awake—it would be keeping Tali asleep.

Shepard smiled as he thought of Tali. He would give her the buzzer first thing tomorrow morning. Hopefully it would make her happy—making sure his crew was happy was definitely important.

Was it just that, though? Was there something else behind it?

No. That was definitely it. Making his crew happy.

Shepard smiled slightly as he rested his head down on his desk, amidst the bits and pieces lying around him, and closed his eyes, memories flitting through his mind. Memories recent and memories old, blending together as if they had always been one—images of Tali standing in front of the council next to memories of firing down range beside Randall, images of Kurt and Shepard sitting in a bar, clinking their beer bottles together with a smile, toasting their victory at Elysium. So many smiles, so many laughs—all naïve and unknowing of the chaos to come.

* * *

As always, thanks for reading!

I might be adjusting my release schedule slightly in the future—I'll probably be changing it to around every five days or so. The steam I was running on is slowly dwindling down, and now I'm left in the awkward position of having no idea what I'm really doing. Hopefully that won't show, as I'm reworking a lot of the plans I had and trying to really solidify the purpose of what I'm doing.

See you in a few days!


	10. Compromise

**:: Chapter Ten :: **Compromise **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_When the mankind moves,_

_Rest of the life shakes._

_All once green turned into stone,_

_Flesh into dust and soil._

_Where the last wave broke,_

_The shores blazed red,_

_And place once called home_

_Turned into hall of dead._

_-Insomnium-_

_§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§_

Tali leaned on her terminal, looking into the mass effect core which still slowly pulsed, glowing with energy, the massive sphere like a beacon of light. Since Shepard had left, she had quickly typed up a letter to her father back in the Fleet that she had intended to send via the extranet, but had trashed it because she didn't know how her father would respond to hearing everything she had been through for the past couple of days. She didn't really feel in a communicating mood, anyways.

For even just that one day on the Normandy, she had felt as if this was where she had belonged her whole life. The Commander had been nice enough to let her on board, and she had felt _useful_for once. Engineer Adams had been extremely nice to her, and had treated her as if she were a real person, and not some beggar or a thief. He had taken her in as if Tali had been a human, showing her around the ship, introducing her to the mass effect core and the Normandy's specific technologies, and letting her away to tinker around with a couple of tasks that he had laid out for her. Occasionally, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him glancing over and smiling at her as she pushed through the tasks that he had given her, finishing most of them by the first day he had given them to her. They were mostly simple tasks—like adjusting the fuel input for maximum efficiency, or tweaking the power distribution over the mass effect core and the stealth drive to ensure that both were working at optimal capacity without overloading each other—but they made her feel useful nevertheless.

The ship was definitely amazing—it was like nothing Tali had ever seen before. Compared to anything on the Fleet… even this small frigate could outgun, outrun, or outmaneuver any other ship that she knew of. It was so small, yet the core it held was almost three times as large as the one that she saw on the Rayya. There was so much potential in this ship—with the stealth drives and the giant core, it was a machine capable of great finesse—but only if it had a pilot and an engineering crew capable of manning it. As for the engineering crew, Tali was very confident in Engineer Adams' abilities—he seemed to know almost every single detail about the Normandy, and Tali was sure that, given some time, she could act as a second pair of hands for the intelligent man, making sure that they could accomplish nearly anything. As for the pilot… well, she hadn't really talked to him yet. He was always in that seat up at the front—she hadn't even seen him leaving to eat his meals or do anything else. But the Normandy hadn't crashed into anything yet, and Shepard seemed to trust him, so it was some testament to his skills.

Tali sighed slightly, her conversation with Shepard coming back to mind. At first, she had been ecstatic that he had been talking to her—and telling him about her people brought her a certain kind of comfort. It was as if the Commander cared about her—like she was a part of this crew who she had only been part of for a few days. But then she realized that it wasn't the case—she was a quarian, and no amount of engineering expertise or combat experience would ever change that. In the end, what he had really cared about was whether or not they would have to pay extra to keep her around. He was probably just skirting around the question to try and make her feel better, anyways. Was he taking her along just out of pity's sake? Did they plan to drop her off as soon as they reached the next port, or did they want to try and scar her with some gruesome scene before scaring her back home?

Tali shook the thoughts from her head. _Maybe I'm just overreacting._Maybe he was just thinking of her well-being. Every human she had dealt with so far hadn't done anything to help her, but perhaps it was a little difficult getting the old experiences out of her head. After all, Shepard had saved her life—without him and Kaidan and Garrus, Tali would be lying in an alleyway somewhere, maskless and with a bullet through her head.

But she wouldn't shirk down from whatever challenges were ahead—especially not if that's what they were planning on doing. She had her engineering skills, and she had her shotgun—a black colored "Mastiff" shotgun that the requisitions officer had given her. It wasn't quite as nice as the one that Han'Gerrel had given her, but she wasn't going to be complaining—any weapon was better than no weapon, especially considering the fact she only had a few dozen credits to her name.

And besides, she knew Saren's plans better than anyone working with Saren at this point. There were days of information inside of the memory module she had captured, and she was doubtful that anyone else would have the time to read through it all like she had during her flight from Illium to the Citadel.

She would make herself useful—and then they couldn't make her leave. Yes, that's what she would do.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Damnit! What do we do?" Roy shouted out, looking towards the ruins ahead of them. "If there's a thresher maw in there, the colonists don't stand a chance!"

"Well, we can't just run in there!" Kurt shouted out in his thick Scottish-sounding accent, shaking his head as he hoisted his heavy grenade launcher up on his thick shoulders. "The damned maw will just eat us alive."

"Shepard, what should we do?" Winston said, the man in his light suit of recon armor stepping beside him, his marksman rifle already in his hands.

"We can't just let those colonists die!" Shepard shouted at his men as they quieted. "We didn't come this far just to watch the people we're supposed to be saving die in front of us! We're not going to let a damned thresher maw take this away from us."

"Hell yeah, Shepard!" Andrew said, dropping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's do this!" he shouted, lifting his assault rifle into the air. The other men cheered with him, marching forward with Shepard as they made their way into the sandy ruins of some old civilization, tall pillars stretching out from the ground, some overturned and leaning on the walls to their left.

"This doesn't seem right, Shepard," Emmanuel said from beside him, the field medic giving him a concerned look. "Something just doesn't add up."

"But if colonists are in danger…"

"I understand. Just be on your guard."

"Boosting shields," Randall said from behind them, tapping on his omni-tool a few times as he adjusted the battery draw from the external batteries which he had given all of them a few days ago. "Should let you take a couple of extra shots if you're careful."

"Got any other goodies for us, Randall?" Boyd said from the side, a smile on his face as he looked over at him. Boyd carried his assault rifle confidently in one hand, using a custom-designed arm brace which would allow him to fire it consistently with only one arm, and held a pistol in the other.

Their squad came around the corner, facing a dead end where the walls of the ruin had crumbled in.

"Damnit, it's a dead end," Roy said, looking around. "It must have been the—"

Suddenly, the earth began to shake as the ruins around them seemed to shift, the walls behind them falling down as Winston and Randall dived out of the way, dodging the falling pillars.

"Crap, we're trapped in!" Boyd shouted, rapidly searching for an exit.

"Where's Winston?" Emmanuel shouted, looking back at the dust where the crumbling ruins had settled. "Winston!"

There was an eerie silence as the squad realized what had happened to the man. His sniper rifle laid on the ground where he had thrown it when he had tried to roll away from the falling debris, but he hadn't been fast enough. If he had been caught underneath the pillar… there was little hope for him now.

"Damn," Randall said, the skinny man picking himself off the ground as he looked back at the ruins where Winston had been. "I didn't think I would see the day…"

Suddenly, from atop the pillars and walls around where they stood, figures wearing heavy suits of dark black armor appeared, hefting giant rifles which they were bringing to bear on the unprepared men.

"Damn it! We're surrounded!" Roy shouted out from behind Shepard, pulling the grenade launcher from his back.

The soldiers in black armor began to unleash their weapons on their squad, striking Randall in the side as he dove for cover.

But Shepard merely stood still, staring at those men in dark armor. He squinted his eyes, looking at the figures, trying to read the symbol on their arms. It was a red circle with a bloody cross in the center, with red text around the edges… If he could just see a little closer, if he could just find what it said…

"Shepard," Randall hissed into his ear, his hands reaching around Shepard's throat, grasping on to his neck with inhuman strength as he lifted Shepard into the air, facing him towards the dark red sky. He spun him around, facing him back towards his squad mates, now all standing in a line before him, behind the kneeling figures of Kaidan and Tali on the ground.

"Why did you stop fighting, Shepard?" Randall hissed, clenching his throat a little bit tighter. "You killed us… and we'll kill them."

As Shepard watched, clutching at his throat as he tried to break free, Kurt lifted his shotgun from his back, shoving the barrel into Kaidan's neck. As he pulled the trigger, blood sprayed from Kaidan's neck and mouth, the man falling forwards in a heap on the ground.

Beside him, Andrew pulled out a pistol from his hip, lifting Tali up by the throat and facing her towards Shepard. No longer did those faint lights of innocence twinkle in her eyes, no longer was she the emblem of pureness and hope that Shepard had craved, had needed. There was no more hope—there was no chance of retribution.

"No!" Shepard shouted as Andrew raised his pistol to the back of her masked head. With a single pull of the trigger, Shepard saw the glass on Tali's mask shatter, blood splattering across its cracked surface before the fragile pieces of glass began to fall forwards.

Shepard awoke in his bed, eyes flickering open as he rapidly inhaled and exhaled, as he felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Shepard sat up, putting his hands in his head as a single tear fell down his face. So quickly had he accomplished so much, yet so quickly had all the satisfaction faded away into nothingness, leaving Shepard emotionless and drained. What was the point of finding happiness when his dreams would carve it into pieces in front of him every night?

Shepard shuddered once more as he pulled himself out of the bed, shaking his head as he leaned on top of the desk where he had made the buzzer for Tali last night. He had been so happy to have made it, so excited to give it to her. And now it didn't even matter—what did she even matter? She was complaining about sleep, and every time Shepard closed his eyes, all he could see was death.

Because that was all that followed Shepard. Nothing else could exist in the company of death.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard had quickly gotten dressed, suiting up into a medium-weight suit of combat armor which the Alliance requisitions officer that was conveniently located on his ship had procured for him. It had cost him a few hundred credits, as it wasn't something typically distributed amongst Alliance personnel, but he had gotten a good price on it due to ranking discounts. It was a bit lighter than his other suit of armor, but the material that it was made out of was thinner and stronger, which meant that this suit of armor felt more like a set of heavy clothing rather than an actual suit of armor. It had been painted black—Shepard thought that it might help him if he was ever situated in a location where he would have to rely on old-fashion sneaking other than his active cloaking module, and there was a small red Alliance logo stamped on the left shoulder. As per Shepard's requests, there were a few modifications that were made—the shoulder pads had an addition piece added which flanged out slightly, which would deflect bullets more effectively, and the chest piece was placed on top of the shoulder plates and the locking stomach plates, bent out of shape slightly so that the two pieces would still fit together snugly. There were a couple of other minor adjustments he had made—like an additional rubber locking strap around his lower chest to keep the plate from flapping around slightly as he ran—but other than that, it was built fairly similar to standard order. It would suit Shepard much better than the officer's uniform that Kaidan had given him to wear—after all, he was just a soldier. He had no intentions of indulging too heavily in the command lifestyle.

He picked his worn combat knife out of its sheath down at his boot, gripping it tightly in his fist with the blade facing downwards. Don't bring a knife to a gunfight, the age old adage went, but Shepard was pretty sure that the few hundred people he had left without throats would disagree with him. Kinetic barriers weren't designed with melee weapons in mind—they would stop and slow high speed projectiles like bullets, but if Shepard could close the gap, his knife would be just as lethal as any sniper rifle or shotgun—and considerably quieter, as well. A few people on the Edmonton had laughed at Shepard when they saw him pull out the knife before they entered a firefight, but they had all stopped when he came back to them covered in blood, his dagger having taken another three lives.

The moves were simple—basic techniques that he had picked up all the way back in N7 training when they had briefly underwent hand-to-hand combat. For the typical soldier, hand to hand combat was something to fall back onto when an enemy was too close to line up a shot with—even if you were out of ammo, students were told that it was better to run than to try and charge an enemy with a knife. But Shepard was far from the ordinary soldier.

"Commander, incoming transmission from Anderson in the comm room," a quiet announcement came in over the intercom, sounding very much like Joker. Not knowing how to respond, Shepard merely looked at himself in the mirror by his lavatory momentarily, making sure that everything was in place, before he stepped out of his chambers and into the mess hall of the Normandy. It was already thirteen-hundred hours—Shepard had slept far too late without any kind of alarms to alert him—and people were already bustling around the small ship. A couple of crewmembers sat down at the table in the middle of the hall, eating from a box of standard distribution type five rations, one of them giving Shepard a curt salute as he walked by. Shepard ignored it for the most part—military formalities were something that he had never really enjoyed in the first place.

He headed up the stairs, heading towards the communications room where Anderson had called him and Kaidan to before they went down to Eden Prime. The room was expectedly empty when he entered, feeling strangely silent compared to the rest of the ship—something that wasn't unwelcome to Shepard's troubled mind. But Shepard's nightmares could wait—Anderson might have vital information.

Shepard pressed on a blinking button on the terminal located at the front side of the room, opening the communications channel. Anderson's familiar figure was projected onto the wall, standing at attention with his hands together behind his back.

"Shepard," he said, giving him a salute. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise, sir," Shepard said, returning the salute out of respect. "What did you need?"

"I've got a couple of people here sifting through the data that you found, and I thought that you could use a bit of interesting information that we found." Anderson grabbed a data pad from somewhere off the side of the screen, quickly looking at it before continuing. "We picked up distress calls from a planet called Therum located in the Artemis Tau cluster. There isn't anything special on the planet other than a few heavy metal mines and a couple of old ruins, but we did a little bit of digging for ourselves, and we found out that Liara T'Soni, the daughter of one of Saren's lieutenants, is working at the dig site on Therum. We're not sure what relation she has to Saren, but if you could find her, it would give you a good start in undermining Saren's operation."

Shepard nodded. This was useful information—Shepard had been considering how he was going to begin fighting against Saren. Even with Tali's data, they still didn't know how best to strike at Saren without knowing his main objectives and motivations, but finding someone close to the operation was a good start.

"We'll look into it. Thank you, sir."

"Good hunting. Anderson out."

The communications feed shut down, the projected screen disappearing. Shepard pressed on a button on the terminal once more, and spoke into the terminal. "Joker, set course for Therum."

An "Aye, aye," came back from the terminal as Shepard turned around and leaned back. Now they had somewhere to start—they just had to keep on going.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

It had been a few hours since they had set their course of Therum. Since then, they had already passed through the mass relay and would only be another half an hour or so before they finally arrived. Shepard was still equipped in his full combat gear, though now he had added his shotgun and his sniper rifle to his back in preparation for landing. The distress call that had been sent out didn't bode well—and as they approached, they had found some disturbing news.

There was a small city located near the dig site where they were going to be landing where the distress call had originated from. Therum had originally been rich with resources, which had led a large influx of prospectors—mostly human, by the reports—in search of element zero deposits and whatever other resources they could find in the planet. Along with them came a variety of mining corporations, but most of the planet was drained by this point, leaving the town sparsely populated with close to around a hundred people. The mines were equally sparse, with only a few scores of active mining staff on site, but since the distress call had been sent out, there had been no further communications from the planet. There was nothing—no radio beacons, no wayward transmissions. It had gone dead silent—which didn't bode well for the people who were living on Therum.

Why Saren would attack the planet was unknown—most of the easily acquirable resources had long since been drained, and old Prothean ruins—which had also long since been drained—shouldn't have held any value to the spectre. Perhaps raiders had attacked? But even so, it would take a large group of raiders—perhaps even a few ships—to take down the town. On colonies like this, which were in constant danger of coming under attack from batarian raiders, nearly everybody carried weapons and were trained to some degree, which meant that taking over the town would be considerably more difficult than just walking through with a group of bandits, gunning down everything in sight.

Shepard stepped into the armory, which was mostly empty other than Garrus, who stood leaned up against the Mako, fiddling around with his sniper rifle, and Kaidan, who was busy extracting his assault rifle out of his locker. Shepard walked over to Kaidan, leaning against the locker beside him.

"Any news?" Kaidan asked, glancing briefly at Shepard.

Shepard shook his head with a slight frown. "We haven't heard anything at all from Therum. Something isn't right—make sure you're well equipped."

"It's just not right—a colony wouldn't just drop off the radar like that. Saren's got to have something to do with this."

"But it's not an attack that was listed on the data that Tali had... but we also screwed up his plans pretty badly when we revoked his Spectre status," Shepard said with a slight smirk.

"You don't think we were shooting ourselves in the leg by getting the Council involved?" Kaidan asked, a worried look on his face. "I mean, if we didn't give Saren any reason to believe we were after him, we could catch him by surprise. And with Tali's data, we'd be able to predict his every move."

"But if we hadn't gone to the Citadel, we never would have found out about Tali's data," Shepard reasoned. "And if Saren still had access to Spectre resources, he would have a higher leg up than he does now. It was for the best," Shepard said, nodding with finality.

"Who else are we taking along with us when we go down to Therum?" Kaidan asked, shutting the door on his locker as he straightened up and faced towards Shepard.

"Just you, Tali, and Garrus. If we've got geth around, I'd like to see how Tali does. And it'll also give me a chance to evaluate Garrus' performance—I didn't really see much of it back on the Citadel. Tell Ashley to organize six other marines as a backup force—we might need them if things get ugly."

"Sounds good, Commander," Kaidan said, nodding his head. "Anything else?"

"Nope—just be back here soon. ETA is twenty minutes."

Kaidan turned around and headed off, going to alert everybody of their duties in the coming mission. Hopefully things wouldn't get too complicated—Shepard just wanted to quickly drop in and pick up Liara, assuming that she would even be willing to come along. Of course, they were well armed and had an assortment of restraints that they could use if she wasn't willing to come along. Capturing enemies alive wasn't something Shepard typically did, but this was a unique situation—the possibility of the intel she carried was worth the risk they were taking, landing on a planet like Therum. And if they could provide some relief to the colonists on the planet, that was good too. At least, in theory, it was supposed to be good.

Shepard spent so much time mingling with the dead that sometimes, it didn't even feel like it mattered anymore. Images of Tali's mask filled with blood briefly flickered through Shepard's mind, causing him to unconsciously wince at the brutal tableaus that tormented him. Was he leading his crew to his death again? Was he going to be responsible for another Akuze?

This was a dangerous mission—they knew almost nothing of the planet other than some meaningless trivia, and it was potentially filled with creatures prepared to do nothing other than unload bullets into them. And they didn't even know if this Liara would know anything about Saren or his plans. There were so many risks, yet the potential rewards were so little. But they had nowhere else to turn to—it was the best option at the time.

Just like Akuze had been the best option at the time. You could never foresee your own death—they had all been so blissfully ignorant. None of them would have woken up imagining that they wouldn't live past that day. Yet seven of them lied in the ground now, dust and ashes, meaningless piles of flesh and bone. Every soldier was prepared to die, from the moment they signed on, but nobody was ready to accept it.

Perhaps this would be Shepard's last day—perhaps he could go out with a glorious bang, or perhaps he would simply lie down and die. It wouldn't matter—eventually, he would fade from memory, becoming mere dust.

Shepard shook the nihilistic thoughts out of his head, reaffirming his purpose solidly in his mind. He was here for the billions of people in the galaxy who were at risk because of Saren and his geth attacks. If Shepard faltered now, they would all suffer—for them, he had to be strong. He was a "commander", now. He had a public image to uphold—because if he faltered, so would his crew.

So many people were counting on him, now. The ghosts of the past weighed heavily on his heels, but the future of the billions hung around his neck with the weight of a trillion hopes and dreams.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Prepare for release," Joker said over the intercom into the Mako, where Kaidan, Shepard, Garrus and Tali were currently cramped into position. Kaidan had insisted that Shepard take the wheel—claiming that he needed the experience, anyways—while Kaidan sat in the secondary co-pilot's seat, basically running everything else. Tali and Garrus sat in the passenger compartment behind, patiently waiting as the vehicle began its descent into the atmosphere of Therum. Garrus was in the back, appearing to be smiling widely, as he had likely realized how they were planning on getting down to the ground as he had spent a fair bit of time close to the vehicle, and after all, the giant springs and suspension system built in the undercarriage of the Mako were far more than what were needed for simply driving on the surface of an unknown planet. Tali, on the other hand, was likely blissfully unaware of their nauseating drop, as she contently sat in place, taking in her surroundings. Shepard hadn't planned on telling either of them how they were going to get it—consider it an initiation of sorts—and he took some slight pleasure of being on the other side of the joke this time around. Shepard had become accustomed to the fast Mako drops—though they admittedly still made his stomach churn slightly—but he was interested to see how his new passengers would react.

Shepard eased forward on the throttle of the vehicle as it edged towards the great opening out the back of the Normandy, front wheels losing traction as they hung over the edge, thousands of feet above the ground. It was a different experience from the driver's wheel—it took a lot more careful execution that he had realized. While still sliding forward, he engaged the mass effect core to lift up the front side of the vehicle to prevent it from barrelling forwards in a nose dive while the back wheels followed the front to the point where the vehicle was neatly balancing all of its weight on its last pair of wheels.

And then Shepard let it drop, disengaging the mass effect core and gunning the engines ahead slightly, clearing the edge of the Normandy's docking bay. As the feeling of vertigo overtook Shepard once again, he heard a cheer and a "Keelah!" coming from the back seat, but he couldn't turn around and see how Garrus and Tali were doing. He had to carefully monitor his speed and altitude to make sure that he engaged the upwards thrusters at the appropriate time—not too earlier so as to drain their fuel cells without purpose, but not too late as to render them a metal splat on the ground. Shepard watched as the numbers on the altimeter blinked by… thirty thousand, twenty five thousand, fifteen thousand…

Five thousand. Shepard pressed a button that would activate the upwards thrusters and gunned the engines, bringing the thrusters up to full power. Their speed readily dropped as they approached a more reasonable landing speed. Their altitude continued to rapidly descend, finally reaching zero at the same time that the Mako landed—or more appropriately, smashed—onto the ground, it's suspension systems bouncing it many feet into the air a couple of times as its internal systems balanced itself so as not to flip itself over. Eventually the Mako stopped bouncing, and Shepard pulled the vehicle to a stop, looking behind him to check briefly on his passengers.

Garrus was still sitting stiffly in position, with what appeared to be a grin spread across his face. He gave a quick human salute—somewhat sloppy, but close enough—to Shepard as he looked into the back cabin. Tali, on the other hand, had her head down low and was clutching her stomach with her hands. Shepard smiled slightly at the slight before returning to his indicators and lights back in the front seat. The temperature was fifty-four degrees Celsius—hotter than their average weather. They would probably want to go with environmental seals, otherwise the blazing heat would quickly wear them down.

"Where to, Kaidan?" Shepard said, looking over at the man as he picked his helmet up from under his seat and fastened it onto his head, closing the mask completely to seal off the suit environment. Kaidan's response came to him through the build in communicators within the helmet.

"We've landed just south of the dig site where Liara is supposed to be at. The colony is just west of us—but I'm not sure what we're going to find there. I haven't seen or heard anything on the comm channels, even after we landed."

Shepard nodded as he began accelerating the vehicle forwards, trying to navigate his way around the rocks and boulders that were strewn across the plains with a limited amount of success. At one point, Kaidan glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow when they had charged straight over a five foot tall boulder that had been in their path.

Most of the journey was uneventful, with silence—both from incoming comms and from the people inside of the the Mako. There was nothing to be said at this point—everybody understood the mission parameters, and there was nothing to comment on—unless, perhaps, someone felt like commenting on Shepard's driving.

While Shepard was busy navigating himself around a boulder that he had already tried to climb over unsuccessfully, Kaidan's expression turned concerned as he tapped on the screen in front of him, zooming in on the display on a small, black semispherical object in the far off distance behind them.

"What is it?" Shepard asked, glancing over at the screen that Kaidan had opened up while he continued to drive forward.

"Geth turret," he said, shaking his head. "Damn… it was geth."

"Is that thing a danger to us?" Shepard asked, wondering if he would even be capable of dodging any kind of fire with the massive tank.

"No, it's too far away… I hope," he said somewhat uncertainly. "There's no way that they should be able to lock onto us from this kind of distance."

They continued to drive over the crest of a hill, more slowly now as they anticipated the geth forces that had landed down on this planet. If they had turrets, they would also have mobile forces to support them. As the passed over the hill, a small circle of buildings came into view—dingy looking metal shacks which were tinted a slight red color from the ages.

"Miner's outpost," Kaidan said, looking at the houses. "I've seen them before—this is where they'll store supplies and sleep for the night before they head out on expeditions into the caves."

"Are they supposed to be deserted?" Shepard asked, noticing the distinct lack of movement anywhere in the camp site. There even seemed to be no wind to rustle the sand on the ground—everything was a silent and as still as death itself.

They pulled the Mako into the middle of the encampment, sliding it to a stop as they opened the side doors of the vehicle. Garrus and Tali jumped out, followed by Shepard and Kaidan, as they all brought their weapons down off their back and held them at the ready. Shepard noticed that Tali was carrying a shotgun with her—it was pretty similar to the basic one that the Alliance distributed, and Garrus had instantly gone for the sniper rifle on his back. They would make a good team, as far as he could tell. Kaidan was extremely effective in a support role, whereas Tali and Shepard could make fast work of anything that tried to come in close. With his cloaking module, Shepard could give the enemies hell from behind, and Garrus would be able to provide overwatch support with his long range rifle. In theory, it was perfect—now they only had to test that theory.

Shepard walked over to one of the buildings, his shotgun held between his hands as he opened up the front door, revealing a small and empty room which was sparsely furnished. There was a terminal at the far end of the room, but other than that, there was nothing that showed if anything else had been here.

"Tali!" Shepard shouted, as she quickly ran up beside him. "There's a computer terminal here—do you think you might be able to find some information in here? Perhaps owners, companies, journals, logs—anything you can find." Tali nodded curtly, running into the room and starting up the computer terminal as Shepard left the room and headed over to another one of the buildings.

He slid open the door on this one as well, revealing a very similar looking room at first glance, but as Shepard began to turn and leave, a foul stench reached him through his helmet's olfactory ducts. The smell of rotting meat—like someone had left a dead animal inside the building, decomposing in the intense heat. He stepped around a couch which was in the middle of the room, witnessing the gruesome sight of a man filled with bullet holes who lied on the ground, splotchy bruises and burn marks across his body—the same kind that Nirali had across her body when she had been shot by the geth. This man had been dead for weeks, left here to simply rot.

How long had the geth been here, massacring people? The distress call had only been sent out earlier that day, and Shepard had responded within a few hours. But if this body were any kind of evidence, the geth had already been here for weeks. Perhaps Liara had been the one to begin the geth attack—maybe she had jammed communications or something, preventing them from getting out a distress signal earlier.

Shepard stepped out of the room, pointing a thumb back at it. "We've got a body," he said to Kaidan, who turned around and began walking towards him,

"How old? A few hours?" Kaidan asked, walking towards the building.

"Looks more like a few weeks," Shepard said, Kaidan standing still and giving him an incredulous look.

"What?" Kaidan said. "Weeks? But I thought that the distress signal was just sent out…"

Shepard nodded grimly, a frown on his face. Kaidan stepped into the building, shaking his head as he looked at the dead body lying on the ground.

"Do you think Liara is even still alive? I mean, if the geth were after her too… I can't imagine she's still alive."

Shepard thoughts were interrupted as she heard Tali shouting over the radio. "We've got geth!"

Kaidan and Shepard sprung to action, running out of the cabin with their weapons at hand. Just down at the opposite end of the circle, a group of six geth armed with assault rifles walked in, bringing their weapons to bear on the unprepared squad as soon as they caught sight of them.

Shepard looked across the clearing, seeing Garrus and Tali huddled against the Mako, Garrus leaning over the edge and firing at the geth when he could despite being held down by bullets sparking off the side of the Mako's metal shell. Kaidan had run out of the metal shack and slid on his knees to a boulder which provided him cover from the geth as long as he stayed down low. Shepard followed him, diving low to avoid taking as much fire as he could, but he still noticed his shields spark slightly as they deflected a few bullets that had struck home.

"Commander?" Kaidan said, looking at Shepard expectantly. Shepard nodded back at him, re-aligning his brain into a tactical mode which he hadn't utilized since his days in N7 training.

"Tali, left side of the Mako! Put some fire down to get their attention! Garrus, right side, use your sniper rifle to take them down! Go for the optics!"

Shepard hoisted his shotgun in his hands as he gestured towards an empty spot on the ground beside him. "Kaidan, can you pull one of the geth over here?" Kaidan nodded silently, as he momentarily closed his eyes, the air around him glowing slightly as it distorted with blue energy. He turned around and stood up, grasping at the air as he pulled one of the geth, slamming it into the ground beside Shepard. As the geth tried to reorient itself and stand up, Shepard ended its synthetic life with a quick shotgun blast to the face. In the meantime, Garrus had managed to take down another one the geth with a quick sniper rifle shot, while Tali was still mixing some kind of electrical attack that she was projecting from her omni-tool with blasts from her shotgun.

"Don't worry, Tali," Garrus said, audible to everybody over their helmet communicators. "Just stick beside me and I'll keep you safe."

As if in response, Tali leaned past Garrus and fired her shotgun point blank at a geth who had tried to creep it's way around the side of the tank to surprise Garrus while he tried to pull off another burst with his sniper rifle. Tali looked back at Garrus with amusement. "You were saying?"

Garrus shook his head, surprised at the girl's adeptness in combat. Already they had managed to decimate half the machines that had initially come after them, forcing the remaining three behind rocks at the opposite end of the camp, firing their assault rifles over top of the cover with surprising accuracy towards Shepard and Kaidan.

"Tali, can you disable those geth?" Shepard asked over his communicator.

"I can't get a clear shot," she replied. "My omni-tool can't get a lock on them."

Shepard looked around, trying to search for some way he could make a move on the geth without taking too many bullets to the stomach when he noticed Kaidan pulling a small orb out of a compartment on the side of his combat armor. Kaidan gave Shepard a wolfish smile as he depressed the trigger on the side of the grenade, a slight beeping noise rising from the sphere as he casually tossed it towards the rock which the geth were still hidden behind.

As soon as the grenade hit its fifth beep, it exploded in a great puff of black smoke and a fiery white flash which blinded Shepard momentarily. The rock had been blown backwards, torn out of the ground, leaving a large, charred crater in its place. The geth had received a similar treatment, the explosion wreaking havoc on their innards and most likely permanently damaging some of their sensors. Despite the explosion, two of the machines still attempted to stand up—one of them missing an entire leg—but Shepard quickly ended the two machines with another two shotgun blasts to the head.

The battle now over, Shepard looked over at his team with a slight sense of pride. They had dealt with the geth very well, he thought—it was a shame that Garrus and Tali hadn't been with them on Eden Prime, otherwise things might have gone differently. Garrus certainly hadn't been boasting without reason—he was a damn good shot. The two geth that he had taken out had a large bullet hole straight through the middle of their optics, nearly perfect shots—a major accomplishment considering that Garrus was under attack the entire time.

Tali had also done admirably—she hadn't wavered in combat, and had coolly and calmly distracted and even destroyed one of the geth. Shepard had certainly done well to bring these people along with him.

The ground quaked beneath them, throwing Shepard off balance before a loud explosion was heard off in the distance. Shepard looked towards the source—the same direction that the ruins were located—as a large puff of black, acrid smoke rose from the ground in a large cloud, lingering in the air.

"They're blowing the mines up!" Kaidan shouted, shaking his head. "If Liara is trapped inside…"

"Shepard!" Tali said, her omni-tool glowing brightly on her wrist. "I've found a rescue transmission! Forwarding to your omni-tool."

Shepard's wrist glowed brightly as a holographic screen popped up, the image of a bald man's face, with a thick, muscled neck and small, piggish looking eyes filling the screen.

"Come in! We need assistance!" the man gruffly shouted through Shepard's omni-tool.

"This is Commander Shepard of the Normandy. What is your status?"

"We've got a god damned geth platoon closing in our position! My boys are taking heavy fire! I don't know if we're going to last much longer here!"

"What are your coordinates?"

"Uploading them now," the man said, looking down momentarily. A map lit up on Shepard's wrist, a dot blinking a few miles away—in the opposite direction.

"We can't make it to your position—we need to make it to the ruins north of your location."

"Damnit, Shepard! The ruins can wait—we're dying out here!"

Another explosion rocked the ground as he heard the ground protesting against the explosions that continued in the distance.

"The ruins aren't going to last," Kaidan said, stepping towards Shepard. "Liara is supposed to be inside the ruins—it's the last place anybody reported seeing her."

_Damnit,_ Shepard thought as he weighed his two options. They didn't know anything about Liara other than she was related to one of Saren's lieutenants. There was a very real possibility that she knew absolutely nothing about Saren's plans, and that this whole trip was a waste of time. And there was also the very real possibility that she wasn't even in the mines—and that running into the mines with his squad was a suicide mission.

But if she had vital information… it would make their fight against Saren considerably easier. Having an agent who knew their enemy inside and out would be invaluable—if they could get her to cooperate.

There were so many risks with Liara, and choosing her meant leaving these colonists behind. But those ruins weren't going to patiently wait while Shepard led a rescue mission—the geth seemed to know that Shepard needed to get into those mines, and were trying to prevent him from doing that as best as they could.

There was a possibility they could radio the Normandy and then send Ashley in to lend support to the colonists, but without the Mako, they would have to bring the Normandy to ground—a dangerous operation considering the massive amounts of geth in the vicinity. And it would take too long—the colonists would be decimated by the time that they could even land.

"Just hold on," Shepard said into his omni-tool. "We need to make it to the ruins—if you can hang on, we'll provide support."

"Damnit!" came the enraged reply through the speakers on his wrist. "We're not going to last for another ten minutes! I swear, if I make it out of this, I'm going to find your fucking grave and piss on it!"

Shepard closed the communications channel, taking a deep breath as he did so. Everybody else heard the exchange—they knew what they were sacrificing to try and find Liara.

If only Shepard could justify sacrificing their blood.

* * *

As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reading!

I'm going to go full-on blog mode here and address a bunch of stuff.

Firstly: Release Schedules! I believe it's twice now that I've said that I'll likely be changing my schedule from three days to something else, and it's twice now that I've basically ignored that and just uploaded anyways. I've got a chapter and a half ahead already written, so right now, at least, this current release schedule is working for me—it gives me time to look back a chapter and tweak things if I need to.

Secondly, review replies. I've been replying to every review that was more than a sentence or so, but I'm not certain if those responses are getting out. A lot of the review express concerns for specific issues, and I'm not going to try and solve them here (in fear of spoiling future events), but I hope I can do my best to solve all of your concerns with the story in the future!

As well, to anybody who has written a review for me, thank you very much for doing so! Writing is great fun in its own right, but seeing someone else's satisfaction makes it really worth it. As well, the constructive criticism is great in making sure that I don't mess up my story in some big way.

So, if you see me making mistakes (grammatical, or contextual, or out-of-character incidents, or just dumb writing in general), please point it out to me and I'll definitely do my best to fix it—even if it means editing an already-published chapter (something I've already done, so meh).

As for this specific chapter, I hope it came out ok. I spent hours deliberating over small details, and I ran into a couple of incidents of writers block which lasted until last night, when I had a breakthrough and wrote a chapter and a half in an hour. I've tried my best to smooth through the major errors that I've made, but I'm not too worried about my 'artistic integrity' at this point in time, so going back and fixing silly mistakes isn't a problem.

I'm not certain how many people I'm really addressing when I write this, but I believe I have something close to sixty dedicated readers (or maybe it's just the fifteen followers I have), but either way, I'm glad that you've taken the time to read this little story of mine and I hope that I can continue to write stuff that you enjoy! If not, I hope that you can tell me what I can do to make it enjoyable once more. ;)

So, until another couple of days, or unless private messages actually work and I'm fussing over nothing, thanks for reading!


	11. Uncompromising

Shepard sprinted down towards the opening of the mineshaft as quickly as he could, spurred on by the continuing sounds of explosives. Kaidan, Garrus and Tali followed suit, sprinting behind Shepard as they continued to scan the area for active geth.

Tali still wasn't quite sure what was going on—all she knew was that they were after some girl named Liara, who was working in the mineshafts. Shepard hadn't said much else—apparently she was working with Saren, though.

But they had just left a group of defenseless colonists behind to die—seventeen of them, according to the statistics sent by the emergency transmission. Was Liara really so important that they couldn't even help out defenseless colonists?

Hopefully they could survive for long enough—the man who had sent the transmission looked burly—perhaps he had some combat experience. She could only hope that they would still be alive by the time that they got back from finding Liara.

"Come on, let's go!" Shepard shouted, as he gestured into long, metal tube which stuck out of the ground like some kind of broken bone. Tali followed Garrus inside, gripping tightly onto her shotgun as she listened for any kind of noise from inside the dark mineshaft.

Shepard stopped at the bottom of the long tube, waiting at the edge before he quickly peeked around the corner. Seeing nothing, he continued running into the next chamber, not bothering to stop and check to make sure that his squadmates were keeping up.

Why would Shepard just let those people die? Even at the opportunity of catching someone that was working with Saren… it wasn't worth letting a group of innocent people die. How many Talis were there in that crowd? People who could flourish, if only they were given the chance? Tali shook the thoughts out of her head, returning her mind to the task at hand. They were dedicated now—and they needed to find Liara. The floor rumbled once more, reminding Tali the urgency of their mission—they needed to find her before this whole place caved in.

"Contact!" Shepard shouted through his radio, as he dived behind a tumbled pillar on the ground, quickly standing up to fire at the two geth he had found armed with assault rifles. His shots weren't capable of doing enough damage, however, the lightweight pellets fired out by his shotgun losing strength a few meters away from its barrel. Garrus pulled his sniper rifle up to his eye, quickly firing a shot at one of the geth, striking him in the neck—not quite disabling the machine, while Tali lifted up her omni-tool, pressing a button to activate one of her preset commands.

After her encounter on Illium, Tali had tweaked with her father's code to make the overload more applicable to geth—theoretically, it would temporarily disable their operating protocols, and perhaps permanently disable other systems inside of the geth—though she hadn't had any chance to test it out. Engaging the program, her omni-tool locked onto the geth, wirelessly tweaking the clock rate on the processor as well as the power output on the battery inside of the geth's shield processor, which resulted in a quick pulse of energy passing through the machine, forcing it to reset its processor and operating protocols, which made it pause for a few precious seconds. Tali noticed with satisfaction that a spark of light had passed between the geth she had used the overload on and the other geth which accompanied it, causing a similar effect on the other geth. While the two geth stood almost completely still, Shepard had dived over top of the pillar he was behind, shooting one of the geth in the head, while striking at the other with the butt of his shotgun as he sprinted past the inactive platform. As the geth began to stand up, Tali made sure to shove her shotgun barrel into the platform's face, blowing it's optics to pieces.

"Shepard!" Tali shouted—the extra volume not really needed due to the communication device which she wore. The man didn't even turn around—continuing to run, leaving them behind.

"Slow down, Shepard!" Kaidan shouted, similarly struggling to keep up with the quick man. Shepard's lightweight armor and training made him considerably quicker than Kaidan or Garrus, who were both wearing heavyweight battle armor, meaning that Tali was the only one who could keep his pace.

Tali looked back and Kaidan and Garrus momentarily, uncertain of who she would be better off staying with. With a final glance backwards, she sprinted forwards, following the path she had just seen Shepard taking moments ago. As she rounded the next corner, she saw Shepard lying on the ground behind another rock, three hostile geth closing in on his position.

"Contact!" Tali shouted, uncertain of why Shepard hadn't been saying anything. Was his communicator broken?

Firing a few useless shots at the geth in an attempt to slow them down, Tali quickly pulled up her omni-tool again, ducking into cover behind the wall which she had just run around. She leaned around the corner, sending another overload at the pack of geth which were now nearly on Shepard's position. Seeing them stunned, she quickly ran forward towards Shepard, diving into cover beside him.

Shepard looked over at her with a confused look on his face as Tali stood up, prepared to dispose the first machine that stood above the rock. As she stood, the barrel of a shotgun was pointed towards her, the geth already active and recovered from the overload which she had sent out.

The blast took Tali squarely in the chest, her modified shields taking most of the force out of the shot, but still knocking her off of her feet and throwing her violently onto the ground. Her vision grew blurry for a moment as she regained her bearings, quickly scrabbling on the ground for the shotgun which she had dropped. She saw Garrus and Kaidan rounding the corner, Kaidan glowing with strange blue energy as he punched the air in front of him. Tali turned her attention back to the geth to see that Shepard had killed the geth with the shotgun while it was distracted with Tali, and that the other two geth had been thrown back by Kaidan's biotic push. While Garrus was busy taking down the two geth, Shepard had turned around and extended a hand to Tali.

Tali grabbed onto his hand as he firmly lifted her up, setting her back on her feet. She looked at Shepard's concerned eyes for a moment, but he diverted his gaze, turning around.

"We have to hurry," he said quietly, beginning to run once more. Tali shook her head at the stubborn man's determination, following him as he ran—though he moved more slowly this time, allowing Kaidan and Garrus to keep up.

They ran for another minute, Tali's omni-tool letting her know that they were close to their target. As they exited the narrow tunnels which had led them to this point, they stepped into a large, open chamber with high ceilings and walls wide apart. At the opposite end of the room, there were what looked to be floors every few meters up, like a cross section of some great building. Across one of the floors, a shimmering blue field glowed, distorting the air around it.

"That's her," Kaidan said as he followed Shepard up to the walls. At closer examination, Tali could see a small figure inside of the blue field—a young looking asari, though it was difficult to tell with the amount of distortion that was created by the field.

"Hello?" a voice came from inside of the chamber, echoing slightly.

"Liara T'Soni?" Shepard asked, turning on the speakers on the outside of his helmet.

"No, no, I must be seeing things," Liara said, as she slowly shook her head back and forth. "Nobody would come to Therum. Nobody would come to these mines."

"Are you in any danger?" Shepard asked uncertainly. Liara looked fine—though she seemed to be slightly out of wits.

"Do you have any food, strange vision?" Liara asked as she laughed to herself. "Or can you dance and sing?"

"Get out of there," Shepard said loudly. "Come with us—it's not safe here."

"You know as well as I do that I can't get out of here—so don't try to tempt me. Hah—I'm talking to myself now. I bet you could sell the recordings back on the Citadel. Crazy girl traps herself in the mines!"

Shepard sighed, likely realizing that Liara wasn't planning on going anywhere soon.

"Tali, do you know if you can hack the field?"

Tali shook her head—there weren't any terminals nearby that she could work with, and she had never seen a barrier of this kind before.

"It's a biotic barrier," Kaidan said. "I've seen old asari make similar ones for protection—but never one her age."

"So how do we get her out?" Shepard asked, looking around rapidly for some kind of opening.

"How did you make the biotic barrier?" Tali asked, hoping that the deranged asari would provide some kind of answer.

"I didn't make it, silly," Liara responded with another strange laugh. "It's some kind of Prothean barrier that I accidentally trapped myself in. I can't turn it off, either—it's holding me in place."

"Just blow it up!" Shepard said, throwing his hands into the air as he could not find another option. "Kaidan, how many grenades do you have left?"

"Uh, three," he responded while giving Shepard an unconvinced look. He probably shared Tali's sentiment of not wanting to cause any more structural damage to the already-collapsing walls. As if in reminder, the ground shook once more as the dull sound of an explosion sounded off in the distance.

"Give them to me," Shepard said, as he put his hand in a small crevice at the bottom of the tower. Kaidan reluctantly unhooked the three grenades from his belt, passing them over to Shepard, who stuffed them into the crack.

"Shepard, the explosion might—"

"No time!" Shepard shouted as the grenades started beeping. "Run!"

Shepard began sprinting away rapidly, Kaidan's face suddenly donning an expression of terror as he tried his best to sprint after him.

"Some warning would have been nice!" he shouted as he climbed over the rocks, his heavy panting audible through the communicators. As he and Garrus simultaneously jumped over top of a large boulder, the three grenades exploded, a wave of energy surging through them, propelling them forward into the wall of the chamber. Even after the initial explosion subsided, the floor of the chamber continued to rumble, evidence of the structural weakness of the chamber.

"The whole place is falling down!" Garrus shouted, already picking himself off the ground and running back towards Liara. The bottom two floors of the tower-like structure had split down the center, broken into multiples pieces and crumbs that now were scattered across the ground. The floor that Liara had been trapped in was still in one piece, but the shield was now flickering on and off, the mechanisms damaged by the blast.

Liara, still inside, fell to her knees, the flickering apparently freeing her for a moment—a moment long enough for her to gain her wits and disable the shield, causing the blue screen to vanish altogether.

"Oh goddess," she shouted, as the floor she stood on began to rumble, giving way with a loud crash as it snapped under the pressure.

A large cloud of dust filled the air, thrown up by the collapsing walls in their finals moments. Liara disappeared beneath the brown and grey colored dust, vanishing under hundreds of pounds of rock and stone.

"Damnit!" Shepard shouted, running towards the crumbling ruins where Liara had been hidden. Tali slowly shook her head, realizing the uselessness of his efforts. Liara would have been crushed underneath the great weight—there was no foreseeable way she could have survived.

Tali sighed, not understanding Shepard's rash decisions. First he had left behind a group of colonists who were likely already dead, and now he had just blown up his objective and buried it under a ton of dirt. What was wrong with him? It was as if he simply didn't care about anything at all. It was as if he were simply here to appease Anderson, and nothing else. Didn't he care about the galaxy, or about stopping Saren? Didn't he care about the thousands of people who were dying from geth attacks every minute?

As Shepard rapidly tossed pieces of stone to the side, trying to uncover Liara, a spot on the side of the pile suddenly burst open with a burst of biotic energy as the familiar blue face poked her head out of the side of the pile, looking dazed, but very much alive.

Shepard stood up and ran to her, pulling her out of the pile and setting her on her feet, while Liara merely stood there, staring at nothing with an odd, lopsided frown on her face.

"Liara?"

She nodded once, still staring off into the distance.

"I'm Commander Shepard of the Normandy. We came here to find you."

The ground rumbled once again, rocks falling from the ceiling, landing dangerously close to their party. Suddenly, Liara snapped back to focus, spinning around as she rapidly took in her surroundings.

"This whole place is going to collapse!" she shouted as she unexpectedly began running away, towards the crumbled ruins of the tower where she had been trapped.

"Where are you going?" Shepard shouted as he sprinted after her.

"There's a service elevator here! Hurry! Before it collapses!"

Shepard followed Liara without question, hoping that she knew the way better than any of them did. The path behind them wouldn't be open long enough for them to escape the way they came in—rocks were falling from the ceiling and walls were caving in, even as they ran through another twisted passageway which led to a round, black metal platform.

"Get on! We're going up!" Liara shouted as she activated a terminal in the middle of the platform. The platform jerked a few times before it began to smoothly accelerate upwards.

"We've got geth!" Kaidan shouted as he fired off his assault rifle at the geth which were waiting in position at another floor that the elevator passed by.

Their squad fired at the geth, trying to stop them from boarding their elevator, which had no cover to protect them. If the geth got onto the platform with them, it would be difficult taking them down before they were overrun. As Kaidan pushed a few of them back with his biotics, another three tried to jump onto the platform from a ledge on the opposite side.

"Geth on the right!" Garrus shouted, swapping his sniper rifle for a faster firing machine pistol of sorts, trying to hold the geth back rather than trying to stop them.

Tali pulled up her omni-tool, trying to run her overload protocol on the geth, but they didn't seem to react. They seemed to be adapting to her attacks, learning and blocking the programs that she was sending out at them. She would have to think fast if she wanted to stop them.

Typing quickly, she adjusted her overload program to affect the power cells inside of the geth instead of their shield generators, hoping that it would work. It was rough, but if it stopped them…

Tali looked on with satisfaction as she saw the geth stop in their tracks, halted by the sudden burst of power that she hoped had temporarily fried their operating protocols. As the geth froze, a wave of energy passed across the geth, flinging them into the air, launching them far enough away that they wouldn't be able to make it back by the time their rising platform had passed their position.

Apparently Liara was a biotic as well—and an adept one. While Tali had been busy fussing with code, she had been flinging them left and right, keeping them off the platform. So far, she hadn't appeared hostile, but if she decided to turn against them… Tali didn't know how they would be able to stop her. As there was a momentary lull in combat, Tali quickly modified her overload program and linked it up to Liara's kinetic shield module—which should allow her to disable Liara's shields as long as she was in close enough range. Hopefully, if push came to shove, it would suffice.

Their elevator came to a stop, jerking once again as it opened up into a large chamber which had a tall archway back outside. Tali saw Shepard begin to run towards the exit, before he was stopped by a heavy bullet skidding directly in front of him. Shepard dived to the ground, trying to dodge any bullets flying towards him, but when none were forthcoming, he stood up, standing straight against the tall krogan that had walked out from the shadows towards him.

All around them, men dressed up in dark brown colored armor stepped from the shadows of the pillars in the chamber, some batarians, a couple turians, and even an asari, all heavily armored and equipped with a variance of weapons. None of them attacked, but they held their weapons menacingly towards them—a nearby batarian holding a malevolent looking rifle with some kind of blade modification towards Tali.

"Arm the charges," the tall krogan said in a gruff voice, staring straight at Shepard while a brutal looking smile played across his face. All around the room, the soldiers pulled small boxes out of their armor, sticking them onto the wall where they blinked with an ominous red light. The krogan at the front of the room pulled out a detonator, holding the red button in his thumb as he spoke in a low monotone.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Commander Shepard. I've heard so much about you," the krogan mocked as he slowly paced around Shepard—who held his shotgun in his hands, but didn't fire.

"Who are you?" Shepard asked, standing still. He didn't want to provoke him with any sudden movements—there were far too many enemies around him to put up a decent fight. There were twelve, according to his very brief count, and each of them were armed well enough to kill them all with a few bullets. There was almost no cover in the room for them to hide behind, and even if he made a mad dash for the meager protection provided by the small rocks, they would have filled him with bullets before he was halfway there.

"Bartok was a good friend of mine," the krogan said, still pacing around him like a tiger stalking its prey. "We made some good runs together—he made me some nice creds."

Shepard's eyes flicked to the side, watching as the soldiers surrounding them closed in, pointing their weapons at his crew.

Damnit. It was just like Akuze. They were surrounded—they had nowhere to turn.

"What do you want?" Shepard asked, holding his shotgun low to the ground.

"You've been busy sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," the krogan whispered, coming dangerously close to Shepard. Shepard's fingers twitched on the trigger of his shotgun, nearly impulsively pulling the trigger out of anger. He took a deep breath, stopping himself, reminding himself of everything he would be risking by pulling the trigger.

Shepard closed his eyes for a moment, the layout of the room flashing in his mind. A million scenarios presented themselves, and not a single one had any of his companions escaping with their lives.

Except for one.

If Shepard forfeited the lives of his companions, he could easily slip away—they wouldn't be able to find him anywhere near here, and he could radio in the Normandy for pickup. It was simple.

And never going to happen.

Shepard closed his eyes, gripping tightly onto his shotgun. The same shotgun he had held on Akuze. Those images filled his mind now—those sandy ruins, surrounded by black armored soldiers. Watching his companions die at his side. Rage began to fill Shepard's mind, burning through his blood faster than any adrenaline injection ever could. When he reopened his eyes, he didn't see himself surrounded by dangerous soldiers. He saw himself surrounded by weaknesses. The batarian to his left had a gap in his chest plate. The turian behind him wouldn't be able to punch through his armor with his petty assault rifle. Shepard had nothing to guarantee victory, but he still had one thing that he never had on Akuze... time.

And that was more than enough for Shepard.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard spun into action suddenly, diving forward towards the massive krogan as he shoved his shotgun into the creature's throat, blasting him onto his back as the shot broke his shields in a brief moment, some of the pellets slipping through into the thick skin under his chin, drawing blood. Shepard suddenly flashed into another of the nearby soldiers in such a manner that Tali thought he had engaged his cloaking module, but he had simply dashed over so quickly that Tali's eyes hadn't been able to follow his movements. A slight flash of light appeared, the wicked looking combat knife that Shepard carried slicing through the man's throat.

The soldiers surrounding them, recovering from their shock at watching their ringleader crashing to the ground before them, began firing at Shepard, ignoring everything else other than the rampaging demon who stood before them.

Tali realized the opportunity, quickly pulling up her omni-tool to try and overload the shields of as many of the men as she could. Noticing movement behind her, she spun around and reflexively pulled the trigger on her shotgun twice, landing two well placed shots onto a turian's and a human's chest, throwing both of the men backwards, blood rising from the holes in their chest.

Tali swallowed rising bile in her throat as she realized that she had just taken her first life.

The others had sprung into action after Tali as well, likely having been similarly stunned at Shepard's rash actions. Liara had used her biotics to slam three of the men into a wall nearby, while Garrus had pulled out an assault rifle and was unloading rounds into the men approaching Shepard from the opposite side, trying to hold them off for as long as he could.

In the meantime, Shepard was still rampaging, having thrown his overheating shotgun onto the ground beside him while he pulled out his sniper rifle, slamming the long barrel into the faces of the soldiers he faced before slicing at them, and shooting it from the hip at the other men who dared to face him. His dark black eyes were filled with the purest expression of hatred, his anger directed at the unfortunate men who stood before him.

Strange, Tali thought. His eyes had been hazel last night.

Shepard continued to fight, taking out another four men that had tried to pull him off a friend that Shepard had stuck his knife into. His shields had burst moments ago—Tali had tried to remotely modify the power usage in his combat suit as an opening in combat presented itself to give him more time—but Shepard was still fighting with showing no signs of slowing. The remaining mercenaries were still unloading rounds into the deranged man, but even the bullets that pierced through the black metal plates seemed to have no effect on his wrath.

As the last three soldiers looked between each other, realizing that their squad which had outnumbered them by almost three times had been decimated, turned tail and ran towards the exit, firing weakly back at their squad in an attempt to discourage chase.

As the men ran past the front door, a shotgun blast took one of their feet out from underneath them, bringing the man toppling to the ground. The krogan slowly stood up, turning away from the man he had just shot and back towards Shepard, who was standing with his sniper rifle in one hand, his combat knife in the other. The krogan let out a deep yell, running full speed towards Shepard with his shotgun levelled at the man.

There was a slight pause as Shepard seemed to consider the incoming threat before he suddenly ducked and rolled underneath the krogan's legs, standing up behind the krogan unharmed as the massive beast slowly came to a stop.

The krogan staggered backwards once as he tried to turn around, falling to his knees. Shepard lifted his bloody knife up, wiping the dripping krogan's blood on his hip. The krogan, despite having no legs to walk on, turned and glared hatefully at Shepard as he tried to fire his shotgun at the man who merely ignored the blasts, and walked towards the krogan.

Tali looked into the man's eyes for a moment as he walked past her—at the dark black irises in his eyes, at his focused, hateful stare.

He lifted his knife once more, plunging it deep into the krogan's throat, dragging it across the seam above his armor, leaving a long gash in his throat as blood poured from the wound as the krogan tried to speak, unable to find the air to form his words.

The krogan's hands shook in final defiance, pulling the trigger once again as the shotgun fell harmlessly from his hands. He directed once last malevolent stare at Shepard before he fell forwards, dark red blood beginning to pool on the ground around his throat.

Shepard stepped backwards from the carcass, standing still as he stared down at the body, half of his body dripping in blood and carrying a knife that was nearly stained red. He tilted his head towards Tali, fixing her with a look of absolute hate and despise. Tali saw his hands grip his knife a little bit tighter as he began to turn around. His gaze suddenly wavering, he blinked twice before he suddenly careened forwards, landing on top of the dead krogan as Kaidan shouted.

Tali dashed forwards, picking the man up from the blood on the ground. Garrus and Kaidan were quickly beside her, holding the man up as he lifted himself up, wiping blood from his helmet as he took a deep breath and re-righted himself.

He stood up once more, steadying himself as Tali stood at the ready in case he began to fall again. Blood continued to drip from his armor—maybe some of it his own. His armor looked like hell—the black colored coating which had been dully gleaming earlier that day was now scratched and bubbled in numerous places, the ablative coating having boiled away, leaving strips of sharply shining silver in its wake.

"Are you ok?" Tali asked, despite knowing fully well that Shepard had sustained major injuries during the fight. The blood that poured from his left flank suspiciously hadn't stopped in the short time that Shepard had stood back up, meaning that the wound was large enough that the automated medi-gel dispensers in his armor hadn't been able to seal up the wound properly.

"I'm fine," Shepard gruffly said as he turned around, shaking his head as he walked over to his discarded shotgun, picking it up and clipping it back onto his hip.

Tali looked over at Kaidan helplessly as the man merely shrugged and shook his head at Shepard's stubborn resilience, the way that he continued to plod on despite the obvious wounds he had sustained.

"Come in, Normandy," Shepard said, speaking into his omni-tool. "Get us the hell out of here."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard slowly eased forward on the thrusters as he drove the Mako back into the armory of the Normandy as it slowly hovered a few feet above the ground. Now that they had scoped out the area, they were able to determine their landing site safe enough for the Normandy to dock and extract. Even if a couple of geth groups fired at the Normandy, there was no way that they would be able to do more than scuff the armor—let alone break the shields. As Shepard drove up the ramp into the docking bay, he tossed the drive core lock into place, bringing the tank to a stop as it settled in place in the middle of the armory, where it could later be moved over to the side by someone who cared.

Kaidan pressed a few buttons beside him, opening the side hatch of the Mako, which slid open with a hiss as the pressurized cabin equalized with the pressure inside of the Mako. Garrus, Liara and Tali stood up and jumped out of the tank, Kaidan quickly following behind, leaving Shepard sitting in the driver's seat, alone with his thoughts.

It had been a rough day, even if they had come out alive for the most part. It had been too close, too many times. Running into a collapsing mine wasn't a great idea. Especially not when Shepard knew all too well that geth were active in the area. They could have all died, today—and they almost did when they were trapped by that krogan and his squad of soldiers.

The whole incident was still a blur in his head—he had blocked out everything other than pure impulse with a wall of rage. He had so willingly invited those cruel images from his mind into the forefront of his vision, blocking his reasoning with horror and blood. And he had nearly killed every damn person in that room.

He vaguely recalled the tall krogan charging at him as if he were moving in slow motion—Shepard had dived between his legs, slashing out as he did so. Then he had sliced the krogan's throat. As he stood above his dead target, he had been ready to turn around and kill the soldiers who stood beside him, with their fingers on their triggers, to feel nothing other than their blood running down his arms, but then the moment caught up to him as he swayed and fell to the ground, adrenaline suddenly failing him as he fell back into reality. As he stood up, he realized that the soldiers he was about to spin around and kill had been Kaidan and Tali.

What would have happened if he hadn't passed out momentarily? He would have killed them both. He would have killed them all.

Shepard shuddered as he recalled the visions of Kaidan's lifeless eyes, bleeding from his throat, and Tali's cracked mask splattered with dark red blood.

"Shepard? Are you coming?" Kaidan asked, looking back into the Mako.

"Hm? Oh, right," Shepard mumbled as he stood up from his seat, climbing out the side of the Normandy beside Kaidan. Ashley also stood nearby, dressed up in her combat armor as she gave Shepard a tight salute.

"Sir," she said, nodding once towards the man.

Shepard nodded back, starting to head towards the elevator so he could go to his private chambers—just to be alone with his thoughts for a while.

"You should go see Doctor Chakwas," Kaidan said.

"No, it's not necessary," Shepard insisted, not really wanting to fuss around in the med bay. Doctor Chakwas would likely find some reason to keep him for longer than he could afford to stay—it always seemed to be that way with doctors.

"You're bleeding pretty badly, sir," Ashley said as she pointed towards Shepard's side, where dark, warm blood was mixing with the dried, sticky blood that had coated his armor from earlier. Shepard hadn't really even noticed that he was still bleeding at all—he assumed that the medi-gel dispensers in his armor would have taken care of whatever wounds he had.

"She's right, Shepard," Kaidan said. "Don't worry—I'll take care of everything around here. Go clean yourself up," he said with a small smile. Kaidan really sounded like Anderson—it was almost strange to hear words like those coming from Kaidan, who was at least a year or so younger than Shepard.

"Fine," Shepard said, putting a hand against the blood that was still dripping down his side in an attempt to stop it from dripping all over the floor of the armory. "Just for some medi-gel."

Shepard stepped onto the elevator, hitting the button for the next floor as he calmly watched his blood dripping from his side and onto the metal floor of the elevator, splattering silently as it made a small pool on the ground. When the door opened again, he stepped out and headed towards the med bay, hoping that the doctor wouldn't keep him for too long. He had to speak to Anderson, soon—he still had no idea what he would even do with Liara.

He slid open the door to the med bay, stepping in as Doctor Chakwas put down the piece of medical equipment she was working and turned to face Shepard, who was still dripping blood from his side. Her initial smile faded quickly into a look of concern as she approached Shepard.

"Dear god, you're bleeding," she said in a motherly sort of way. "Sit down. Take off your armor."

Shepard obeyed as he sat down on one of the medical beds located at the side of the room. Shaking the excess blood off his gauntlet, he reached for the release mechanism on the side of his armor, lifting the chest plate off. Another benefit of placing the chest plate over top of the stomach and shoulder plates—it could be removed without taking off half of the suit first. The plate stuck at first, crusted blood holding it in place, but Shepard easily pushed it off, tossing the plate to the floor.

Shepard took a deep breath, his chest unrestricted by the heavy metal plate. He silently unclasped the rest of the plates around his abdomen, tossing them all into a dirty pile on the floor as Doctor Chakwas poured some clear liquid into a cup and dipped a cloth into it.

With his armor off, Shepard pulled off the blood-stained shirt that he had been wearing underneath—a now tarnished Alliance uniform—and tossed it aside, revealing the cruel looking flesh underneath.

Shepard had really taken a beating—he still could barely comprehend that this was his own body he was looking at. The magic of adrenaline and painkillers, Shepard thought, as he observed the splotchy surface. Dark purple bruises covered nearly his entire chest and stomach—likely caused by the multitude of bullets that had been striking him from all sides. There were a couple of puncture wounds from the heavier rifles that a couple of the soldiers had been carrying, with a bullet hole near his belly button that had been sealed up with medi gel, and a series of holes on his side, where the flesh had torn between the closely clustered holes, which was where Shepard was currently bleeding.

Doctor Chakwas frowned as she looked at Shepard's torn body, leaning in as she rubbed some of the liquid on his chest, stinging slightly as the dried blood dissolved away, leaving just Shepard's purple skin behind.

"What did you do out there? Wrestle a krogan, or something?" Doctor Chakwas asked as she continued to rub the liquid around Shepard's wounds.

"Basically," Shepard said, chuckling slightly at the truth in his words. Doctor Chakwas fixed him with a disapproving stare before returning to the wound.

"The bullet you took in the might have damaged your stomach, but it's nothing that can't be fixed with a little bit of microsurgery. As for your side, I'll have to patch that up—as long as you don't move too much, it won't be a problem."

Shepard nodded as she turned around again, retrieving some other pieces of medical equipment from her shelf. Doctor Chakwas really reminded Shepard of his mother—her tone of voice similar to the way his mother had always reprimanded him when he had decided to swim in the puddles of mud or when he had eaten too much ice cream. Doctor Chakwas was probably the same age as Shepard's mother was when… when she died.

"I don't know if I can do it," Shepard said, almost more to himself than to Doctor Chakwas.

"Do what?" she said, looking back at Shepard with a curious look.

"Everybody could have died out there today. And I led them right into it."

"But they didn't," she said, lifting Shepard's arm as she closed up Shepard's wound, sticking a piece of sticky fabric across the wound, sealing it shut.

"But how long until they do? I can't survive watching anybody else under my command die."

"And I know you won't let anybody else die because of that. And I'm sure the reason that you're the only one here is a testament to that," she added, giving Shepard a reassuring smile.

It wasn't much, but her logic gave Shepard some solace. "Every single thing that I've ever loved died in front of me," Shepard said, looking down at his feet. "Why should I even bother trying to care for anybody when they're only going to die?"

"And why should you even bother trying to live if you're not going to love?"

Shepard looked up at Doctor Chakwas, who was fixing her with a solid stare.

"What is the worth of life if you can't bring yourself to care for anything?" she said, a hint of bitterness evident in her voice. "It's the people around us that make life worth living—even when they leave us."

Shepard took a deep breath, absorbing her words. "I failed everything that I ever cared about. And it kills me," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"Don't think of the ones you've lost—think of the ones you've had," Doctor Chakwas said, putting a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "And take good care of the ones you have."

Shepard nodded, still uncertain of how he felt. It might have been nearly a year ago now, but the wound still felt fresh—especially when it was torn asunder with every idle thought he had.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Chakwas. I should be more professional," Shepard said quietly, sitting up straight.

"I'm a doctor, Shepard. I make people feel better," she said with a smile. "Now, shoo. Don't move too much and try not to get shot again, and you'll be fine in a few days."

Shepard gave her a sad smile—one of the few genuine ones he had in the last couple of days—as he stood up, grabbing his armor in a bundle underneath his arm as he walked out the door and took a turn towards his private chambers, to clean off this armor and to put on a new shirt. And maybe a few other things, too.

* * *

Thank you for reading and thank you all for the support that you've been giving me!

I don't think I have too much to say this time—I'm going to keep to my three day schedule as best as possible (provided that I can keep my two-chapter buffer).

If there's anything that bothers you about the story (such as grammar, the proceedings, small details, etc), feel free to leave a review, send me a PM, or write me an email—the feedback is always appreciated!

Once again, thanks for reading! See you again soon!


	12. Loose Ends

"Shepard sure got beat up," Ashley said as she and Kaidan walked over towards the lockers at the side of the room. "What happened down there?"

"Just the usual," Kaidan said. "Fighting for our lives against hundreds of geth."

Ashley chucked slightly as Kaidan opened up his locker and began tossing his gear inside. "Maybe I can come along next time—there's nothing to do inside this ship."

"Maybe," Kaidan said, shrugging at Ashley. "The extra gun would have been handy when were trapped in a room filled with explosives."

Ashley raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. "And how did you get out of that?"

"Just look at me—do you think that a few pounds of explosives could keep me down?" Kaidan said, with a smile as Ashley shook her head with a chuckle.

"But really," Kaidan said, becoming more serious. "Shepard killed half of the men surrounding us. He slashed a krogan's legs out from underneath him."

"Sounds like a hell of a fight."

"Yeah. Maybe if you weren't in it," Kaidan said somewhat somberly.

"Maybe you just need a few more good humans at your side."

"What do you mean?" Kaidan said, glancing up at Ashley.

"I mean, maybe you should tell Shepard to bring some real soldiers with him. Not some quarian kid or a police officer."

"Why? Do you have a problem with them?" Kaidan said, slightly frowning.

"No," Ashley said, not wanting to make it sound like she disliked them on a personal level. "It's just that… you know, this is an Alliance vessel. And if the Council didn't want to help us, why should they?"

Kaidan nodded at her, understanding the source of her discontent. She had listened to the recordings from their meeting with the Council—like most of the crew already had—and she was upset about the poor treatment they had received.

"They're better fighters than you might think," Kaidan said, recalling how well the group had worked together that day.

"You haven't seen a real soldier fighting yet, Alenko," Ashley shot back with a wry smile. "But it's not the same on a small ship, like this—there aren't any firing lines, no offensive pushes, no holding maneuvers. There aren't enough soldiers for those kinds of tactics."

"It's not so bad once you get into it. You just have to make sure you can stand up on your own feet."

Ashley gave Kaidan another shrug. "But still, you have to agree that it would be easier if we just had humans here. I mean, it's not a day care or something. We don't have time to prepare special meals for the turian and the quarian."

Kaidan nodded, not really agreeing but not really feeling like arguing with Ashley. "Maybe. I have to go make sure that Liara didn't kill Richard and Dunkin—I'll catch you later." Kaidan shut his locker, turning around to head towards the storage compartment where they had planned on temporarily holding Liara, leaving Ashley leaning against the wall back in the armory.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped out of his cabin, wearing a less-grotesque version of the bloody and torn Alliance uniform had he left in his room, carrying his pistol on his hip and his knife on his left leg, as usual. In his hands he carried a small black box—the buzzer that he had quickly put together the other night.

Doctor Chakwas' words rattled around Shepard's head—words that held logical merit, yet still felt empty to his troubled mind. Perhaps for someone else, maybe her words would have held true. Shepard yawned slightly, tired from the day's exertions, but not planning on going to sleep any time soon. Shepard recalled the cruel visions from his dream once again—though this time the sharp edge wasn't as prevalent, they didn't slice into him as they had earlier.

Stepping into the elevator, where Shepard's blood had dried into a pool from earlier—apparently nobody had gotten around to cleaning it yet—he hit the button for the floor below, which would take him near the engineering core.

It finally seemed like things were coming together—they had Liara held for the time being, Kaidan had made sure of that—and Shepard had a crew that seemed dependable which he could use to fight Saren. He could take Liara back to the Citadel, so that Anderson could question her—interrogation had never been Shepard's style—and then they could proceed based on whatever information she had.

Stepping off the elevator, Shepard turned around the corner, ready to head down the ramp when a familiar voice stopped him.

"Shepard?" Garrus asked, stepping out from the shadows beside where the Mako was parked and towards Shepard. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" Shepard said, stopping as he turned around.

"If there's a murderer on a ship along with ten civilians, is it worth blowing up the ship to kill the murderer?"

Shepard was silent for a moment before he responded. "Absolutely. Bad people need to die—or else they'll kill more innocent people. The sacrifice of those ten civilians can save the lives of hundreds of others elsewhere."

Garrus nodded, a pensive look on his face. "Thanks, Shepard. That's all," Garrus said, as he turned around and slowly walked back towards the Mako. Shepard tilted his head slightly, confused at the purpose of the question, but merely shrugged and continued off into the engineering bay.

"Evening, Shepard," Adams said from inside. "The engines are working fine—anything you need?"

"I just came to talk to your new recruit for a minute," Shepard said, nodding towards Tali. "Could I distract her for a moment?"

"Sure," Adams replied. "She's probably already finished everything I told her to do, anyways."

Shepard nodded his thanks, walking over to Tali, who still seemed to have not noticed Shepard and Adams talking. Perhaps she was pretending—making it look like she was so focused in her work.

"Tali?"

"Hm? Oh, hello, Commander," Tali said, spinning around and awkwardly putting her three-fingered hand up to her forehead in an attempt at a salute. Smilingly slightly at her ineptitude, Shepard put his hand up to his forehead in a similar manner, elbows sagging.

"How are you doing?" Shepard asked, noticing Tali's slightly drooping figure. Her shoulders were lower than usual—typically she seemed to hold herself upright, but now she seemed to be slouching somewhat.

"I'm fine," Tali said, not very convincingly. "Just tweaking the power modulators."

"You did really well today," Shepard said, hoping the compliment would make her happier. To his slight surprise, she barely reacted.

"Um, thanks," she said quietly, before turning around and leaning on her control panel. "I… should get back to work."

Shepard frowned at the depressed manner in which she seemed to carry herself with. "Is something wrong, Tali?"

She sighed, leaning forward heavily on the railing for a moment before she turned around again, holding her hands together.

"Shepard… did those men deserve to die?"

Shepard nearly said "Which ones?" before he stopped himself, realizing in fact how many men Shepard had doomed to death that day. "I didn't want to leave them behind—but we had no choice," Shepard said, hoping that she wasn't referring to the men who had surrounded them.

"But we could have saved them… if we had went back, they would still be alive."

Shepard took a deep breath, not wanting to say what he was about to say. "Sometimes… we need to make sacrifices. They sacrificed their lives so that we could save Liara—and she can help us stop Saren."

Tali nodded slowly. "What about the men who attacked us?"

Shepard sighed, realizing what Tali was likely thinking of. "Tali… they were bad people. They deserved to die."

Tali sighed, looking down at her hands. "I killed two of them, Shepard… I killed them…"

Shepard suddenly remembered looking at himself in a mirror, more than a decade ago, with tears streaming down his face. When the batarians had attacked Mindoir, his father had given him a pistol. When one of the batarians had broken into his house, Shepard had shot him many times, even after he had stopped moving. His mother and his father were both dead, and Shepard had just ended another man's life. His first kill wasn't romanticized or beautiful, it was a cruel, terrible thing that had been forced onto him as a young, naïve child.

And Shepard could see that in Tali now. A pit of regret formed in Shepard's stomach as he realized that it was because Shepard had brought Tali with him that she had to experience those kinds of thoughts and emotions. It always seemed like it was Shepard's fault.

"I'm sorry," Shepard said, biting his lip.

"What? No, no," Tali said, quickly looking at Shepard.

"I shouldn't have brought you with me," Shepard said as he slowly shook his head.

"No, you should have," she said, standing up straighter, speaking with more confidence now. "I want to help fight the geth—and I want to make a difference."

"This isn't the last time we're going to have to fight people instead of machines," Shepard warned her.

"Then I guess this isn't the last time I'll have to kill somebody," she said, without any cruelty or happiness, but merely simple acceptance. "I'll do whatever it takes to stop Saren," she said, standing up straighter.

Shepard looked up at Tali, seeing her determined stance once more. And when he looked into her eyes, he could still see that spark of innocence, silently gleaming beneath her mask.

Innocence that Shepard had lost years ago.

"Oh," Shepard said, remembering the reason for his visit. "Take this," he said, handing the metal box over to Tali.

"Oh, no," Tali said right away, before she even knew what it was. "I couldn't accept anything—"

"Please, take it," Shepard insisted, pushing it back at her. "It's not useful to anybody else on this ship except for you," he said, giving her a small smile.

"Make sure you get some sleep tonight," Shepard said, turning around and beginning to walk away.

"Wait, Shepard," Tali said, stopping him as he began to leave.

"Hm?"

"What color are your eyes?"

Shepard gave Tali a curious look, uncertain of the purposes of the question. After all, she could see his face right here—unless her mask distorted colors somehow.

"Blue—uh, I think," Shepard said, realizing that he didn't really even know what color his own eyes were. He had looked at himself in a mirror almost daily, but he had never really looked at his own eyes.

Tali stared at him for a moment, looking unconvinced, before she nodded and thanked Shepard again for the gift. As Tali turned back to the terminal in front of her, Shepard headed back up the ramp to the armory. It was time to speak to their new guest.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

_RECIPIENT: Garrus Vakarian_

_SENDER: Bartus Karrok_

_SECURITY QUESTION: Dead Wrath_

_ENCRYPTION KEY: MARKUS_

_SUBJECT: YOUR LEAVE_

_It is a shame to see you leave us. You have great potential and room for growth if you work hard at it. _

_I see that you are now enlisted with Commander Shepard. I wish you had spoken with me or another one of your superior officers before you decided to leave. For your sake, I adjusted your status to "Permitted Leave" as opposed to "Absent Without Leave", so that you wouldn't have trouble when you came back to the Citadel._

_Good luck with taking down Saren. I trust that you'll stand for the good of the galaxy no matter where you are._

_Also, when you return to the Citadel, speak with me in private. There is information in regards to a previous investigation which you had carried out in the past. New information has presented itself which you may act on if you so decide._

_Captain Karrok_

Garrus re-read the message over once again, still uncertain of what to think of the whole thing. He hadn't spoken with Karrok out of fear that he would be grounded permanently, or expelled from C-Sec, though he knew that once he had a chance to prove himself in a military group like Shepard's, he would likely be able to remain as a part of it whether or not C-Sec approved. The fact that Karrok had officially permitted his leave on the Normandy surprised him—it opened up new avenues that he had thought were lost to him forever after he made his decision.

And as for the information that he had hinted at? Garrus didn't know what it could have been. There were many incidents in the past that were listed as "unsolved" due to legal predicaments, but none had been as severe as the incident with Markus. The only other incident that would warrant involving Garrus would perhaps have to deal with a certain salarian doctor who Garrus had a previously hunted down—and nearly killed.

But there were no half measures when it came to death.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped into the small cabin where they had been keeping Liara under guard for the last few hours. She had helped them escape from Therum, but there was always the possibility that she was just being pragmatic, using their presence as a way to escape and then skip out as soon as they docked planetside somewhere. Two soldiers stood at the ready at the front of her room—likely not enough to stop her if she had really wanted to get out, but they would at least look tough enough to discourage her from simply walking away.

After all, they still didn't know anything about her. All they knew was that according to Anderson's data, she was related to one of Saren's lieutenants. It wasn't much to go on, but it could easily mean that she was just as affiliated with Saren as her mother.

Shepard nodded to the two guards, who gave Shepard a crisp salute in return as they opened the doors to the chambers. Inside, Liara was sitting on one of the crates in the back corner of the room—this room was mostly used for storage, so it was littered with a variety of metal boxes. She was wearing a green and white suit now, though where she had gotten it was a mystery to Shepard. When they had found her, she had been wearing a thin, grey colored suit that was stained with dust and grime.

"Commander Shepard," Liara said, looking up from a datapad that she had in her hands. "Is there something you require?"

"Are you working with Saren?" Shepard said, not feeling like mincing words with the girl.

Liara shook her head silently, still meeting Shepard's gaze. She looked young—deceptively so. Asari lived for so long, half of their race looked younger than Shepard did—and he was only in his mid-twenties. This girl could be decades older than Shepard, and yet she still looked like a child.

"Do you have anything to do with Saren?"

She silently shook her head again, staring at Shepard with her crystalline blue eyes. They were beautiful eyes, Shepard thought—colored like the ocean. But strange, alien somehow.

"Do you know anything about Saren?" Shepard said, losing his patience. But Liara merely sat there, slowing shaking her head.

Those eyes. They had that same sort of spark to them, the same kind of spark that Shepard could see in Tali's eyes. The innocence, the selflessness, the pure goodness. But it was all wrong—it didn't feel right. It was just a falsehood, a mask. Shepard had seen her Liara's biotics—the ease at which she had thrown geth backwards, the lack of hesitation while they were fighting. Those two sides simply didn't add up.

"I risked the lives of my entire crew to save you," Shepard said, pacing back and forth in front of her. "I sacrificed seventeen colonists who needed my help to save _you_." Shepard paused for a moment. "So you better start taking before I decide it's not too late to put you back on Therum."

Liara's eyes widened upon hearing Shepard's sudden threat, and she lockers her eyes with his.

"I don't know anything," she pleaded to him, staring with those damnable eyes.

"Liar!" Shepard suddenly shouted, anger suddenly welling up from inside of him. This whole girl was a lie—her innocence, her words... everything was false.

It was undeniable.

Liara continued to stare at him, wide-eyed. She had slid backwards slightly when Shepard had shouted—he could tell that she was coiled tightly, ready to pounce as soon as she had the opportunity. Shepard subtly slid his pistol out from his holster in one swift movement, the handgun almost appearing in his hands.

"Speak!" Shepard shouted, swinging his pistol in the air.

"I… I don't know!" Liara shouted back, the fear suddenly making itself evident on her face.

"Then what the hell did I pick you up for?"

"I… I don't know!" she shouted again, tears beginning to form on her face.

Shepard resisted the urge to point his pistol at her. No matter how false her innocence might have been, her tears were real enough.

She was lying to him, though—Shepard could feel in within him. It was impossible that this girl could know nothing of Saren's plans—Anderson's data pointed directly to her.

It was undeniable.

Liara broke down in tears in front of him, heavily sobbing as she put her hands in front of her face in an attempt to defend herself. Shepard squeezed tightly on the grip of his pistol, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"I risked the lives of my entire team to save you… so you better be ready to talk."

Shepard threw his pistol back in his holster, gruffly turning around and heading out the door. The two guards looked at him as he stormed past, but when Shepard didn't say anything to them, they closed the door back up and resumed their position.

Shepard stepped into the elevator, still fuming. Something about seeing that false innocence in Liara's eyes had angered him instantly, had made him regret every decision he had made that day. He never should have brought Tali along, and he never should have tried to land on the planet with such a small ground team.

And he never should have tried to save Liara.

Shepard sighed heavily, leaning forward on the railing inside the elevator. He looked down at his side, blood dripping from his crisp and clean uniform onto the metal floor of the elevator.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Not again," Wrex grumbled under his breath as the Quasar machine in front of him proudly displayed "You won one credit!". These damned machined were rigged—there was no way that Wrex could have lost five hundreds credits in one night.

There was little else to do around the Citadel for someone like Wrex. Not enough people to kill, too many credits to waste, he mourned, as he stood up from his chair at the machine. After he had killed Fist, the Shadow Broker hadn't sent him any messages or notifications as to what his next assignment would be, as he typically had in the past. As far as Wrex knew, the Shadow Broken had gotten tired of him and simply decided to discard him.

But at least he paid up front.

Wrex began to turn around and walk away from the frustrating machine before he stopped and turned around, holding the chip with a single credit on it in his hands. Tossing the card aside, he balled up a fist and slammed it into the faceplate of the machine, putting the blinking lights out in a hurry. With some satisfaction, he heard an asari scream nearby at the sudden movement and loud smash, but he was mostly glad to be done with the money-grubbing machine.

As he proceeded to walk out of the bar, a short volus walked up to him—his three foot height completely dwarfed by Wrex's nearly seven foot tall frame.

"Excuse me, sir, but you're going to need to pay for that," he said in his congested sounding voice, gesturing at the shattered machine that Wrex had left behind. "That's a seventeen thousand credit machine that was imported from—"

"Bah," Wrex said, pushing the volus aside. "You've probably stolen more money from everyone in this damn building."

"Stop!" the volus shouted after him, hobbling behind him. "Stop or I'll call C-Sec!"

"Do your worst," Wrex said, not even giving the volus the satisfaction of being directly addressed as he continued to walk towards the front door of the establishment.

"Marvin, stop him!" the volus shouted at the bouncer who stood at the front door. The red haired human stared between the massive krogan and his volus employer, wondering which course of action would incur more wrath—obeying the volus or ignoring the krogan. After a moment, he pulled out his pistol at held it towards Wrex, who continued walking towards the man regardless of the puny weapon which he held out.

Compared to Wrex's shields and armored hide, the bullets from the pea shooter probably wouldn't even hurt him. So Wrex continued to walk.

"Stop!" the human shouted, obviously terrified of actually having the stop the krogan. As Wrex took another step, he pulled the trigger, firing his useless bullet into Wrex's chest, the pellet easily stopped and deflected by Wrex's shields. With ease, Wrex laid a hand on the human's shoulder, tossing him aside as if he were made of cardboard. Sounds of the volus' rage ensued as he ran off, likely going to call up C-Sec to let them know of a violent krogan on the premises.

Let them come. It's not like C-Sec could actually stop him, anyways.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali laid down contentedly in the sleeper pod which she had been attempting to use for the past few days, with little success—not because it was cramped or because of the strangeness of the device—as neither of those were a problem to Tali, who was both small and curious—but simply because of the silence. She hadn't been exaggerating when she had told Shepard about her slow acclimation to the quiet sleeping chambers in the Normandy. The ship was already almost deadly silent—especially when she left the AI core to sit down in the mess hall—and at night, inside the insulated sleeper pods, she could only hear the horrible sound of her ears ringing.

"Log 18." Tali said into her omni-tool, which was glowing lightly inside the small sleeper pod.

"We went to a planet called Therum today to find someone who was working with Saren—an asari named Liara."

Tali was silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, not really certain of what she wanted to say.

"There were lots of geth on the planet—we had to fight our way through most of them. But Shepard, Garrus and Kaidan are all really good fighters, so it wasn't a really big problem."

Was there really a point to these incessant logs? After all, it's not like these were things she was going to be forgetting any time soon.

"We left a group of defenseless colonists to die today," she said bitterly.

"This is stupid," she declared to herself, quickly stopping the recording. It's not like she was going to listen to these things any time soon—it was a pointless endeavour. At first, she had thought that her pilgrimage would have been a wonderful experience—travelling to new places, meeting new people, seeing the wonders of the galaxy… but of course, that misconception had been quickly shattered. She had only been keeping the video logs out of the sake of habit—something that provided her comfort, something familiar. But it was still useless.

Tali sighed, remembering how easy it had been to take that soldier's life. She had impulsively pointed her shotgun at him and pulled the trigger, barely even realizing her actions before blood began to pour from the dead man's body. Tali shivered involuntarily, not wanting to think of what she had done.

But Shepard was right—they were bad people. And they deserved to die. At least that's what Tali would tell herself—it was the only way she could justify what she had done.

Hopefully these thoughts wouldn't haunt her for too long—she didn't know if she could handle another sleepless night. She had tried to hide it, but she had almost fell asleep on the Mako—after the initial wave of nausea from the landing, even Shepard's rough driving had almost put her to sleep. The subtle hum of the mass effect core, the skidding of tires on the ground—it had taken most of Tali's will not to fall asleep.

But now she couldn't sleep—the silence was too unnerving.

Tali pulled the small metal box that Shepard had given to her earlier, just for something to do. Something to occupy her mind with. Whatever it was, she didn't know. There was a small dial on the side, and a red button beside that. Was it a grenade or something? If it was, she certainly wouldn't want to press the button while she was inside of a sleeper pod.

She cracked open the box easily—it wasn't sealed shut, it looked like it had just been squeezed together, and inside, she saw a small circuit board hooked up to what appeared to be a motor of some sort. It looked harmless enough—there were no components that should cause any worry. Closing the box back up, she pressed the button on the outside as the motor began to run, creating a humming noise which echoed throughout the sleeper pod.

Tali smiled as she suddenly realized what the box was. Turning the dial down slightly, which made the humming a bit softer, she realized how similar the sound actually was to that of an air filtration system back on the fleet. It was a familiar sound, something that she could hang onto. Something comforting.

Tali yawned and slowly closed her eyes as she continued to smile at the sound.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"ETA to the Citadel, six minutes, Commander," Joker's voice said over the intercom in Shepard's room.

"I'll be up in a minute," Shepard said while pressing a button on the terminal on his desk. Shepard yawned once, trying to shake the tiredness out of his head as he had done at least a few hundred times during the night.

In an attempt to stay awake for as long as he could manage, Shepard had turned the lights onto their maximum strength, which should trick his body's internal clocks significantly enough to at least prevent him from passing out right away. Furthermore, he had done his best to distract himself with Tali's data, studying random pieces of information, more to keep himself awake than to actually learn anything.

The trip to the Citadel had been fairly uneventful—at one point, two of the soldiers had gotten into an argument regarding rations—apparently one of the soldiers had taken the other's stew—but nothing else had really occurred. The magic of mass relays, Shepard thought, considering the great distance which they had covered.

Shepard stood up from his chair, already fully dressed in the combat armor which he had worn the previous day. In the middle of the night, he had washed and scrubbed the armor clean of dried blood in his lavatory, leaving the armor at least fresh enough to wear for the time being. At least nobody would mess with him—there were a few holes throughout the suit where bullets had punched through, and there were silver stripes all across the suit where bullets had struck and skidded along the surface, melting away the ablative surface.

It was probably good enough on the Citadel, anyways. Even last time, when he had dealt with Fist and Markus, their soldiers hadn't been armed to the extent that he needed to be worried. And if they were some of the most influential criminals in the area…

Shepard simply wasn't worried, to say the least.

Stepping out the door of his cabin, he saw Kaidan give him an unprofessional looking salute—a bit of evidence of their unprofessional relationship—and Shepard nodded to him in return. Climbing up the stairs to the main deck of the Normandy, he quickly jogged to the front cockpit, where he saw Joker steadily navigating them past one of the Citadel's wards, the tall skyscrapers reaching out to meet them.

"Any troubles?" Shepard asked to Joker, sitting down in the co-pilot's seat.

"Nope," he replied. "Just got clearance—took them long enough."

Shepard nodded, looking out the window as they approached a docking bay, the building growing larger as they approached it. As Joker loaded the Normandy into position, the ship jumping slightly as the magnetic clasps grabbed onto the Normandy's frame, Shepard stepped into the airlock, waiting for the decontamination protocols to begin.

As soon as those were finished, he stepped out of the Normandy, and seeing the familiar figure of Anderson standing at the edge of the docking bay, Shepard snapped off a salute as he walked towards him.

"Shepard," Anderson said, extending his hand and giving Shepard a strong handshake. "Good to see you again."

"I thought I was meeting you at the human embassy?" Shepard asked, surprised to see Anderson waiting for them at the docking bay.

"I thought that I'd come give you a personal greeting," Anderson said with a smile. "I'll take you down to the embassies—Admiral Hackett and Admiral Belford are there, organizing colonial defense."

Shepard heard the door of the airlock slide open once more as Kaidan, Tali and Garrus stepped out of the Normandy, along with Liara, who was chained up and being led by Kaidan.

"I've brought Liara T'Soni—where do you want her?"

"We can take her down to the embassies—I'm sure that the Admirals will want to talk to her," Anderson said, looking at the asari. "Did you get any information from her?"

"I haven't talked to her," Shepard lied, not wanting Anderson to ask about his interrogation techniques.

"She could be very important in this war—especially if it gives us some way to predict what Saren has planned."

Shepard nodded, unconvinced that Liara knew any more than he did about Saren's plot. She was hiding something, that much was unquestionable, but she had seemed to genuinely know very little about Saren.

As the group approached them, Anderson stepped forward and addressed Liara.

"Liara T'Soni?" Anderson said, standing stiffly in front of her. She nodded quietly, keeping her gaze down to the ground.

"Shepard and I will take Liara from here—thanks, Kaidan," Anderson said, nodding to the man as he put a hand on Liara's shoulder and guided her towards the far railing on their docking bay. Kaidan gave Anderson a salute, and began to head towards to the stairwell at the opposite end of the docking bay, along with Garrus and Tali.

"Sir, can I speak with my crew for a moment?" Shepard asked, gesturing to the departing figures. Anderson nodded, giving him a slight smile as Shepard quickly jogged towards them.

"Before you go," Shepard said, as they stopped and turned around to face him. "Make sure that you keep your shields up, and your weapons ready. The Citadel has proven to be more dangerous that we guessed."

Shepard wasn't particularly worried about Kaidan—he knew that the biotic was already wearing his heavy combat armor, and he was extremely proficient in combat—and he wasn't worried about Garrus either, who knew the Citadel extremely well and wore an equally heavy suit of armor. He was worried about Tali, the one who wore the extremely thin-looking environmental suit, and was in danger of deadly infection every time she was wounded. Shepard was reluctant to let her go out on her own, as even though she was well armed, she likely wasn't ready to shoot down any assailants if they were to come after her.

But Kaidan and Garrus would certainly keep her safe.

"And, Tali," Shepard said, almost as an afterthought. "If anybody gives you any trouble, tell them you're Alliance. From the Normandy."

Tali nodded, and Shepard turned around to head back to Anderson as his crew similarly turned around, heading down the stairs.

"You look like you've done well, Shepard," Anderson said as he returned. "It seems that your misgivings about command were misplaced," he said with a smile.

"Maybe," Shepard said, still uncertain that he was the best choice. Kaidan would likely be a better commander, no matter what spin Anderson put on it.

"Come on," Anderson said. "Let's get to the embassies."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Garrus sighed as he looked back at the front desk of the C-Sec headquarters—a place he hadn't imagined seeing again, at least not for another few months. He had been barely gone a week and he was already back here—to talk to Karrok, even, a man who he had no intentions of ever speaking to again.

But if Karrok had information about Saleon… Garrus could swallow his pride long enough to get that intel. There were lives at stake—pettiness wasn't going to help.

Garrus stepped past the front desk, the turian receptionist giving him a sharp nod as he walked past. He walked past the first few doors in the hall, before he stopped outside Karrok's office, pressing the buzzer on the outside.

A few moments later, the door slid open, and Captain Karrok, wearing his orange armor and matching face paint emerged, standing stiffly, staring at him. Garrus avoided the urge to divert his gaze—the old turian was still certainly intimidating, even if he technically wasn't his Captain anymore.

"Captain," Garrus said, matching the turian's gaze.

"Vakarian," he said, matching Garrus' tone.

"You said that you had information regarding Doctor Saleon?" Garrus said, not wanting to spend any more time here than he had to.

"I never mentioned Doctor Saleon," Karrok said, turning around as he walked back towards his desk. Garrus breathed a slight sigh of relief at the lack of an angered outburst or cold hatred—as much as he had hated the way that the man had dealt with some criminals, he respected him as a superior officer and for at least wanting to make a difference.

And after all, Garrus had nearly gotten his daughter killed. At least a little deference was in order.

"I… believed that Doctor Saleon was the only open case that you would want to involve me in," Garrus said, pausing slightly.

"Then your intuition is as strong as ever," Karrok remarked, though not sarcastically. "We found a tip on his whereabouts."

"Where is he?" Garrus asked, wanting to know where to find the murderous doctor.

"We haven't found his exact location yet, but we've found a two-ton black market shipment of Chlorophyllin Agent X."

Chlorophyllin Agent X. Gibberish to the average person, but this was exactly how it had started last time. They had found a large black market shipment of the rare chemical, and begun their investigation naively believing it was just some drug trade or something similar.

And then things had turned upside down.

"Where was the shipment sent to?"

"A classified ship in the Petra Nebula," Karrok said, sitting down at his desk and tapping on the haptic interface in front of his terminal a few times.

"Classified? What kind of classification?"

"Unknown," Karrok said with a grim smile. "We sent a scout frigate to the material transfer coordinates, but they never returned."

"He… attacked?" Garrus said, his disgust increasing.

"If it is in fact Doctor Saleon," Karrok said, putting a hand up. "We don't know who it belongs to yet. I just thought that you might find our investigation… curious."

Garrus nodded. "Is there anything else? Any way that we can track him down?"

Karrok shook his head. "Nothing. But now that you're in the loop… I'll make sure you get whatever we find. And once we find something…"

"I'll take him down."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

The next chapter might come out a day late—I'm going to be out and about for a little while, and I'm not certain if I'll be around in three days.

I also just wanted to extend a thanks for everybody who has been providing reviews and support—the social acceptance really makes me feel good. :)

I also wanted to extend a specific thank you to Azzorath, a friend who has been providing extensive support and has proven to be a real friend in the last couple of days. Thanks, Azzorath!

As always, if you've got any complaints, ideas, or constructive criticism, feel free to leave a review, send me a private message, or even drop me an email.

Once again, thanks for reading! See you again soon!

EDIT: Whoops, I made a mistake and accidentally uploaded the un-edited version. If you're seeing this message now, changes are the chapter isn't screwed up.


	13. Two Fingers

"Commander Shepard," one of the admirals said as he stood up from his chair in the back of the embassies office. Shepard stepped fully into the room behind Anderson, the door silently closing as the other man—also an admiral, based on the rank emblazoned on his chest—stood up beside him.

Both of the men were slim and muscled, though the first man had long scars across his face as evidence of his service. He looked at Shepard in a hawkish sort of way, uncompromising eyes scanning across Shepard's similarly scarred and battered form.

The other admiral was less impressive—his face was smooth, other than the slight stubble that was forming around his jawline. He felt slightly kinder, more lenient, perhaps, but Shepard knew that every man in the Alliance had earned his rank with merit.

"Steven Hackett," the scarred man said as he extended his hand to Shepard. "It's good to have you here—we're in need of strong soldiers at times like these."

Shepard nodded, looking past the man at the table where the two admirals had been sitting. On the small table in front of them sat a trio of datapads, each of them displaying the faces of some average looking humans, as well as a few lines of text that were too far away for Shepard to see. The other admiral walked up to Shepard, extending both of his hands to Shepard.

"Admiral Belford," the man said, grasping onto Shepard's hand with his own. "I've heard of your work on Elysium—I expect great things from you."

Shepard gave him a meaningless nod of his head as the two admirals sat back down in their chairs.

"What am I here for?" Shepard asked, wanting to get down to the meat of things. Now that they had gotten past the barest of formalities, Shepard wanted to get back to what he should be doing—stopping Saren.

"These men here," Hackett said, gesturing towards the three datapads on the table, "They were high ranking Alliance military personnel stationed on New Canton—all killed in the middle of the night, one after the other."

"Assassins?" Shepard asked, his mind already formulating the motives for taking down the men.

"Yes," Belford said, nodding his head. "And if we don't stop them, we won't have anybody left to command on New Canton." Belford leaned forward, procuring a cigarette out of his pocket, toying with it in his fingers. "The first was the acting colonial president. The second was the stationed admiral. The third was a retired general."

"They're draining our morale and our command," Hackett said.

"Do we know who the assassins are?" Shepard asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

"That's where you come in," Anderson said beside him. "We want you to intervene, and find out where these assassinations are coming from. We suspect Saren, but if they're mercenary assassins…"

"We can choke the problem at its source," Hackett said, nodding at Anderson's words.

"Why can't we just send more troops to New Canton? Or increase colonial defense?"

"Take a look at this map, Shepard," Belford said, tapping on his omni tool a few times before a small box on the desk projected a hologram of the galaxy in the air above the desk.

"See all of those systems in red?" In response, nearly half of the glowing spots around the edges of Citadel space began to glow red. "Those are the colonies that are under attack and need troops. See the systems in white? Those are the stations where we've already exhausted our troop reserves."

"We're losing that badly?" Shepard asked, not understanding how they could have already lost control of so much of their territory.

"The geth attacked weeks ago," Hackett said. "They started with small colonies that nobody would notice missing."

"Like Therum," Shepard added.

"Like Therum," Hackett agreed. "And then they moved onto the more heavily populated colonies—like Eden Prime. By the time we even knew about the geth threat, they had already captured more than a third of our claimed territories."

Shepard nodded. The evidence was certainly there—the body on Therum had been all the evidence they really needed to see that the geth hadn't just arrived days ago.

"What about the Council? Aren't they providing support?"

"The Council hasn't budged," Anderson said, sadly shaking his head.

"They just want to hold their troops so they can save their own asses," Belford said bitterly.

"As true as it may be," Hackett said, "It doesn't change our situation. We need all of our troops dedicated to fighting the geth front where it's most important—and we need our elite, soldiers like you, taking down the most important threats."

Shepard nodded once. "So how do we find out where the assassins are coming from?"

"We have a list of the highest ranking members of the Alliance situated on New Canton," Belford said, tapping on his omni-tool a few times. "We want you to head out with your crew to tail the most likely targets, and intercept the assassins before they can make their kill."

Shepard's omni-tool lit up, receiving the list of potential targets on New Canton. The name of a newly inaugurated president, a military colonel, an ambassador, and a political advisor all filled the small screen on his wrist.

"Each of the assassinations has a pattern," Hackett said. "They all take place at sunset, on the second day of the week. And the assassin cuts the left index finger off the target."

"So the next assassination is scheduled for…"

"Two days time," Belford said. "Let's just hope they keep to their ritual—or else we'll be in for a surprise."

"Be ready for anything," Anderson piped in. "Just because they've made a pattern doesn't mean they'll be keeping it."

Shepard nodded, the plan already building itself in his mind. With his considerable ground squad, it would be simple enough—and then they could find the men behind this.

"What about Liara?" Shepard said, wondering how the admirals would address the asari who they had left locked in a room adjacent to the embassies.

"We'll talk with her in a moment, after we decide how we want to deal with colonial defenses on Terra Nova," Belford said. "We'll speak with you again after we talk with the asari."

"Until then," Hackett said, as he stood up in his chair. "Dismissed."

Shepard gave the admirals a salute as he turned around and stepped out the room, leaving Anderson behind, who was presumably going to work out military arrangements with the admirals.

He had a couple of hours to kill—was there anything he could do around the Citadel? Not particularly—the various clubs and bars had never really appealed to him. The concept of purposefully reducing your own effectiveness and awareness by using an alcoholic beverage just seemed silly. And Shepard never really was the type for dancing.

Perhaps he would quickly check in back at the Normandy—make sure that all the necessary medical supplies as well as repair kits were in stock. Maybe afterwards, he could find someone to fix the holes in his armor.

Shepard walked down the stairway that led to the embassies room, stepping out onto the open Presidium, taking a moment to admire the beautiful sight. Artificial sunlight glinted off the calm waters in the middle of the walkways that encircled it, and grass grew near flowerbeds that were filled with a variety of plants that were as alien to Shepard as turians and asari were.

He leaned on the railings above the water, yawning despite the bright lights which shone on his face. He was tired—there was no denying that. But there was also no way that he was going to be letting himself fall asleep any time soon.

Shepard stood back up, pushing himself away from the railing. Perhaps he would look into some metabolic boosters once he got back from the Normandy.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped into the front entrance of the C-Sec headquarters, on his way to the Normandy. The ship was docked at the opposite side of the building, and it was quicker just to head through the building rather than wander around its edges. Besides, he was known well enough that nobody would question his presence in the building.

Shepard quickly stepped past the front desk, the young turian working giving him little more than a quick glance, and headed into the main chamber where the headquarters broke off into its various parts—one path heading off to the market district, another towards the Citadel control towers, and a bunch travelling off to some other location that Shepard hadn't bothered exploring as of yet. As he turned around the corner, he stopped in his path, listening to the shouting coming from inside of the central chamber.

"You couldn't stop me, whelp," came a deep, resonating voice—one that Shepard realized wasn't even shouting, and was just loud by nature.

"You can't leave here until we've gone through the whole situation report," another voice came in, speaking loudly but calmly. "If you left we'd be required to stop you with force!"

"I'd like to see you try," the deep voice said again.

Shepard stepped around the corner to see the familiar figure of a tall krogan standing in the middle of the room, walking towards one of the exits as a turian armed with an assault rifle chased after him.

"Stop!" the turian shouted.

The krogan didn't even look back at the turian, instead, seeing Shepard out of the corner of his eye, turned around and began walking towards him.

"Shepard!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide as an equally wide grin spread on his face. "Good to see you here!"

Shepard stood still as the massive krogan, arms spread wide, walked towards him. He recognized this krogan very well, and even though he had helped them last time, Shepard still didn't know anything about him.

It was definitely the same krogan—Shepard could tell from the long scars across his face. The same krogan that had mysteriously vanished after he had helped Shepard and Kaidan kill Fist, back when they had rescued Tali. Shepard had wondered where the krogan had disappeared to—after all, it was tough for an eight foot tall, three foot wide creature like him to just "vanish"—but apparently, he hadn't gone far.

When Shepard didn't respond to the krogan's display of recognition, he stopped a few feet in front of him, putting his arms back down as he looked at Shepard pensively.

"Remember me? Or has it been longer than I thought?"

Shepard nodded slightly. "I wondered where you went after we took down Fist."

The krogan laughed, turning around to face the turian, who still held his assault rifle in his hands but didn't appear particularly hostile.

"Good timing, Shepard—these pyjaks are trying to lock me up in some prison cell."

"What did he do?" Shepard said to the turian with a sigh, not really sure why he was defending this krogan who he barely knew. Maybe it was because without him, Tali would have been dead right now.

"He smashed a quasar machine!"

"The damn machine stole my money!" the krogan shouted—though not angrily—as he waved his hands in the air.

"What's going on?" Karrok said, the black and orange turian stepping out from a hallway and into the main chambers.

"I already told you, when I want to leave, I'm going to leave!" the krogan said loudly, turning around and heading towards the entrance that Shepard had come in from.

Karrok looked between the departing krogan and at Shepard, a helpless look on his face as he tried to understand what exactly was happening.

"Good luck stopping him," the turian armed with an assault rifle muttered, shaking his head.

"Gather up a team of four—use the tranquilizers if necessary," Karrok said, gesturing towards one of the hallways. "Bring him in and then—"

"He's with me," Shepard interrupted, putting a hand up.

"With you?" Karrok said with a curious look on his face.

"He helped me take down Fist—without him, I wouldn't have been able to stop Fist or Markus."

Karrok stopped for a moment, looking at Shepard pensively. "Alright. He's free to go," he finally said, nodding at the armed turian, who merely nodded back and walked towards one of the hallways.

"You keep strange company, Commander Shepard," Karrok said with a slight chuckle. "Take good care of Garrus for me." Without another word, he turned around and walked back into the hallway that he had emerged from. Shrugging to himself, Shepard continued on his way, heading out the back exit towards the Normandy's dock.

Everything seemed to be so strange nowadays, Shepard thought, still uncertain of what had happened just then. He climbed up the stairs to the docking bay where the Normandy was located, and as he reached the top of the flight of stairs, the now all-too familiar krogan was sitting atop the railing with a grin on his face.

"How did you…" Shepard began to say, wondering how the krogan had managed to leave through the door he had entered, and still beat him to the ship. How he even knew what ship to go to was still a mystery. Why was he even here, anyways?

"Good to see you," the krogan said, standing up. "So, this is the ship?"

"What are you doing here?" Shepard said, looking at the krogan curiously.

"Joining you," he said without hesitation. "You're going to kill Saren, right?" Shepard nodded once.

"Sounds like fun," the krogan said, rubbing his hands together in front of him. "When're we leaving?"

"Wait," Shepard said, trying to slow down the all-too enthusiastic krogan. "I never agreed to you coming along."

"What, you're going to say no to a five-hundred pound krogan? You're saying that you and that other guy that was with you that day couldn't use a bit of extra muscle?"

He could have been useful on Therum—things could have gone quite a bit differently when they had been surrounded with a krogan like him on their side.

"What's your name?" Shepard said, realizing he still didn't even know what his name was.

"Wrex," he said simply. "I'll see you inside," he said as he began walking up the gangway towards the Normandy.

Shepard uselessly put out a hand to try and stop the krogan, but he was already halfway there. With a defeated sigh, Shepard followed Wrex into the airlock.

If nothing else, Shepard owed him for what he had done that day they had taken down Fist. He would give Wrex a chance aboard—after all, they could get rid of him if they needed to.

Pressley would probably have a fit, Shepard thought, remembering the man's less-than-positive response to seeing Garrus and Tali aboard.

Strange company indeed.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali stepped past one of the large doorways that were placed every so often along the Citadel, which were likely some way of isolating dangers if the need ever arose. The Citadel seemed to be filled with all sorts of contingency plans—vents to carry away toxic chemicals, built in fire-retardant dispersal systems, as well as C-Sec officers standing guard around almost every corner—though Tali bitterly remembered how willing they were to help when Tali had come under fire herself.

Adams had sent Tali out to go and pick up an X480 power conduit—he said that he didn't trust the requisitions officer enough to pick up the right model. The new conduit would be a useful upgrade—the old X460 model, even though it had been expertly balanced to nearly perfect in terms of power distribution, it wouldn't be able to even reach half the capacities that this conduit was capable of carrying. In the event of a firefight, the extra power buffer could help keep the main guns firing or help hold the shields up for a little bit longer—an extremely important upgrade in any circumstance.

This marketplace wasn't anything like the one that she had mindlessly wandered into when she had first arrived on the Citadel. While that one had a beautiful view of the other four wards of the Citadel, as well as even a few flowerbeds filled with lush grass, this one was completely closed off, it's small windows providing little else than a view of the hustle and bustle of traffic below. The artificial lights of the Citadel had trouble making it to these darker corners, but there were enough glowing market terminals and flashing advertisements that Tali had no trouble seeing her way through the throngs of people that passed near her.

She had come out here, expecting to be treated similarly to how she had been treated in the past, though to her surprise—and slight pleasure—she noticed that the crowds seemed to pass around her rather than attempt to swallow her up. As people walked past, she saw disdainful looks, which promptly transformed into surprise and even a couple of open-mouthed stares at the Alliance logo which she had proudly stuck to her chest. Garrus had found it for her—apparently they weren't too difficult to come by on an Alliance ship—and Tali had stuck the adhesive logo onto her chest where anybody could see it—provided they were looking at her from the front and not planning an attack from behind.

But this time was different for more reasons than just that—this time, she had her shotgun shining dangerously on her back, and even if she wasn't planning on shooting anybody, she was sure that nobody else knew that. The extra intimidation factor was worth the peace that she seemed to be receiving now.

There it was! Aephus Engineering—a turian-owned company, according to Adams, but he thought that they must have had quarians working behind the scenes. He didn't believe that turians were capable of the kind of parts that they produced on a daily basis.

Tali walked up to the market stall, where a light grey colored turian with a red stripe across his face stood idly. When Tali approached him, he stood up straight, taking his hands off the counter to face her.

"Can I help you?" he asked hesitatingly. Tali curiously noted that this turian didn't have the deep, bassy undertones that most other turians seemed to have.

"Yes," Tali said, "I'm looking for the X480 power conduit that you make."

"I don't think you could afford it," the turian said with a chuckle. "Maybe you could look into the cheaper X440 model that runs for only about a hundred credits."

"I said I wanted the X480," Tali said, not pleased that this turian was just assuming that she was broke.

"That'll cost you—"

"Three-thousand credits," Tali finished for him, slapping a credit chit onto the table in front of her. The turian looked between her at the chit on the table suspiciously, before he slid the card off the table and inserted it into a small terminal located at the back of the stall. After a moment, the machine beeped and he turned around, looking at Tali with a look of distrust very evident in his eyes.

"Alliance?" he said, glancing at the Alliance logo which was stuck to her chest. "You don't look like a human."

"I'm from the crew of the Normandy," she said proudly. "Working under Commander Shepard, the hero of Elysium." Tali was proud to know that little bit of information—she had looked up Shepard's bio on a few sources on the extranet, and the only thing that people seemed to agree on was that he was often hailed as a hero because he had held off a bunch of batarians or something on Elysium.

The turian looked unconvinced, hesitating a moment before he curtly nodded and bent down, picking up a small metal cylinder out from a box inside of the vendor stall. Tossing it into a plastic bag, he handed the sack to Tali, who took it from him and patiently waited as the turian retrieved the credit chit.

"If you stole this, C-Sec is going to be coming after you," the turian warned, but Tali merely turned around, ignoring the comment as she walked away.

Having now completed her mission—no matter how small of a mission it was—she began walking back the way that she had come, satisfied with the proceedings of the day so far. No abusive comments, no pushing or shoving, and no bullets in her arm—it was certainly a much better trip than her last one. If it weren't for the fact that people were avoiding her as if she were infected with some deadly disease—ironically, it was the other way around—Tali might have believed that she belonged here after all.

But having people avoid you had its perks—there were no people to bump into, and she could walk wherever she liked.

Tali ducked away from the heavy crowds and down a staircase which was located near the side of the market hallway which she had just exited. Before she had returned to the Citadel, she had downloaded a map of the station on her omni-tool, and this tunnel would take her through a much less crowded area that should be faster to return to the Normandy through. Even though the crowds hadn't harmed her yet, all it would take is one snooty volus or an angry turian to ruin her so far perfect day. Down in these lightly populated tunnels, which were filled with a couple of hover-car dealerships and what looked to be a casino of some sort, there was little chance for Tali to have any incident.

"Stop right there!"

Or so she had thought.

Tali turned around, desperately hoping that the shouting hadn't been directed towards her. As she scanned through the few people idly meandering about, she saw the figure of a human, dressed up in a navy blue uniform and wearing a flat, funny looking hat, running towards Tali. The way that his eyes were trained on her told Tali all she needed to know.

The man ran up to her—it was a human, with reddish colored hair and a thin moustache growing between his lips and his nose. In fact, the man was only about the same size as Tali—which meant that he was small compared to most human males.

"You dirty thief," the man said as he scowled at Tali. He came to a stop in front of her, his arms crossed in front of him as he scanned Tali with disgust.

"I didn't steal anything," Tali said, trying not to let any anger seep through her words. Apparently this man was running purely on prejudice and silly misconceptions—there was no reason to make him think he was right.

"Yeah, right," the man said, unconvinced. "That's why that turian said you had an Alliance-distributed credit chit."

The damn turian had sold her out! Not even sold out—had simply accused her of being a thief to this officer!

"It's not a stolen chit," Tali began to explain as the officer's curved into a deeper scowl, his eyebrows furrowing furiously. "I'm working with the Alliance, on the crew of the—"

"Bullshit," the man spat suddenly, waving his arms in the air violently. "Hand over the chit before I have to hurt you."

Tali paused for a moment, uncertain of what she should do. Obviously, this misguided officer wasn't planning on backing down any time soon. Tali did have her shotgun, which she could have used to dispatch this officer with ease—but the idea disgusted her, no matter how upset she was with the man in front of her.

The thought of straight defiance also crossed through her mind—but then the man would run her in with C-Sec, and she would be forced to spend a night in prison where nobody else knew where she had disappeared to. And Shepard wouldn't be around to save her again—and even if he knew what had happened, would he want to get her out? It wasn't his responsibility to keep Tali out of trouble, no matter what kind of false accusations were made against her.

And if she was arrested by C-Sec, would he even let her back on the ship?

There were so many questions forming in her mind, doubts and fears that she could easily lose her newfound—and better, for the most part—existence in a few short moments if she didn't submit to this officer.

Tali reluctantly put a hand in one of her pockets, handing the credit chit over to the officer, who snatched it out of his hand and scanned it using his omni-tool. After a moment of fussing over the small piece of plastic, he stuffed it into a pocket and turned his angry eyes back to Tali.

"Turn around!" he shouted, waving his hands in the air again. Tali hesitated momentarily, uncertain of what the officer was planning.

"Turn around!" he screamed again, this time with Tali complying immediately. If she was going to succumb to C-Sec, it might as well have been all the way—half-compliance would still get her locked up.

Expecting the man to brutally feel her person in a search for other "stolen" goods, she wasn't prepared when the felt the brutal crack of a baton slamming into her legs, pain spiking up her thighs and knees, her legs suddenly dropping out from underneath her, causing her to fall heavily on the ground.

Hissing through the pain, Tali gritted her teeth and reached for the shotgun on her back subconsciously. There was no way she was going to let this officer abuse her like this.

As her fingers scrabbled at nothingness, she heard the sound of the officer chuckling. Turning her head back at the officer, she saw him holding her shotgun in his hands with a smug look on his face.

"Looking for something?" he taunted, holding her shotgun in his hands. In anger, Tali began to spin around so she could hit the man in the face, but before she could even get back up to her feet, another blow came from his vicious baton, the crippling pain bringing her back to her knees.

But she had to endure it.

Shepard wouldn't stand for weakness.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard hefted the small plastic sack over his left shoulder—a bag filled with an assortment of things that would help him survive without sleep. A couple of metabolic boosters—supposedly able to help humans rival even the salarians—as well as a few syringes also containing nearly pure adrenaline, which were fairly expensive compared to the metabolic boosters, but would also awaken him at a moment's notice—perfect if he needed his full attention on something like combat.

In addition to those more modern remedies, he also went with something that he had always heard about from his father back on Mindoir—coffee. Apparently, the caffeine content in the dark black liquid had worked to provide a boost at any time of the day, though he had never had any when he was young—it was expensive to have it imported all the way from Earth. Shepard had picked up a sizable sack of the liquid—though the sack felt solid, perhaps it was a powder—that he would carry back to his cabin. First, though, he wanted to pick up a couple extra adrenaline shots. He had wrung the last merchant dry, and apparently the closest place to buy adrenaline was from a certain Genex dealer which was somewhere down the backstreet which Shepard had now turned down.

"Stay down, you dirty rat!" Shepard heard off in the distance. The wards were always filled with violence of some kind—especially in these seedy looking alleyways, where every other person could be an assassin or a red sand dealer. Whenever you came through an alleyway like this, there was always the risk of something going wrong.

"That'll teach you to steal, thief," was heard again. Whatever was happening, the man dishing out the punishment was certainly upset.

Shepard rounded the corner, finally finding the source of all the commotion—a small group of people were surrounded around a C-Sec officer with a baton in his hand, waving it threateningly above his prone victim on the ground.

Shepard walked closer, glancing over at the incident through the crowd when he froze in his steps, dropping the plastic sack. The purple suit on the ground was far too familiar.

"Stupid quarian!" the C-Sec officer shouted again, lifting his baton to swing at the quarian on the floor. As he swung, he found his baton suddenly stopping dead in mid-swing, a lightly armored human grasping onto it.

"What the hell are you doing?" the officer shouted, angrily redirecting his gaze at Shepard.

Matching his hateful glare with a calm, unwavering stare, he quietly asked, "What is the meaning of this, officer?"

"This damn thief was stealing money from the Alliance—now let go of my damn bat before I call for backup and run you in!"

Shepard narrowed his eyes at the man, quickly glancing down at the quarian on the floor. Tali's pained eyes met his for a moment before Shepard turned his attention back to the officer in front of him.

This fool thought that Tali had stolen the credit chit from the Alliance—and he had beaten her down for it.

And this fool was about to pay for what he had done.

With a single twist, Shepard wrenched the baton from the man's grasp, tossing the metal rod to the ground as he simultaneously grabbed onto his left wrist using his other hand, slamming the man into the wall behind him as the crowd around them began to thin.

"You son of a bitch," the man shouted with difficulty past Shepard's arm stuck on his neck.

"You hurt one of my crew," Shepard whispered into the man's ear. With a brutal twist, he snapped the man's left arm with a cruel sounding snap, as the officer hissed in pain and continued to stare with anger at Shepard.

"I'm going to murder you," the officer said, clenching his good hand in a fist. In a quick, well trained movement, the officer swung his body forward, loosening Shepard's grip on his arm while simultaneously pulling his pistol out of its holster, swinging it in front of him so that he could shoot his assailant. With a victorious shout, he pointed his pistol at Shepard…

And the gun was knocked out of his hand before he could even secure his grip around the trigger. Faster than he could even comprehend, he was back against the wall, his right arm pinned to his side as he felt a sharp pricking at his throat. He opened his eyes, looking down in terror as he saw a long combat knife fixed to his neck.

As a single drop of blood began to pour down his throat, the man tried his best to speak in some way, but no words would come out of his mouth. He merely stared into the man's black eyes, terrified of what was going to happen.

"I know how to make you suffer," Shepard said with cold cruelness, his stare never leaving the officer's eyes.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, feeling as if all his blood was draining from the wound on his throat. Out of the side of his vision, he saw the quarian standing up unsteadily from the ground, dusting herself off. With a hiss of pain, she toppled sideways, landing on the ground once again. As his eyes followed the unsteady quarian, there was a sudden crack as he felt his right arm shattering like a twig, pain spiking up from his arm and through his body. Suddenly, the pressure was released, and he fell to the ground, doing his best to clutch onto his two wounded arms.

Shepard tossed the two fingers that he had cut from the man's right hand onto the ground, disgusted. Why he didn't kill this sorry excuse for an officer was beyond him—but something had stopped him. He turned around to Tali, trying to stand up against the wall, and extended a hand to her, lifting her to her feet. With a final glance over at the sniveling officer sitting on the corner of the ground, Shepard took Tali's arm and put it around his own shoulder, helping her walk on her still-wounded legs, back in the direction of the Normandy.

His adrenaline packs could wait.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard let Tali go as they entered into the airlock of the Normandy, the outer doors closing as the decontamination protocols had begun. During their walk back, Tali had initially protested, claiming that she was fine and that she could walk on her own, but Shepard had insisted that she allow him to help her—there was no point putting pressure on an injured limb. Despite her constantly saying "Really, Shepard, I'm fine," he had made sure that she had overcome the most difficult obstacles such as the stairs up to the Normandy before he let her go.

She leaned heavily on the railing inside of the airlock, testing her ability to walk on her own as she tentatively stood up straighter, putting more pressure on her legs. With a slight hiss that was barely audible to Shepard, she stood up straight, her legs trembling ever so slightly under the pressure.

"Are you sure you can walk?" Shepard asked, concerned that she would fall as soon as Shepard let her go.

"I'm fine," Tali said somewhat unconvincingly as she began to hobble out of the airlock and onto the main deck of the Normandy. Shepard sat back for a minute, observing her painful looking limp before he shook his head with a slight smile and walked up behind her, scooping up her small frame as she yelped and continued to protest while Shepard carried her down the stairs of the main deck and into the medical bay of the Normandy.

"Really, Shepard, I told you I could walk—" Tali said, interrupted as Doctor Chakwas turned around from whatever she always seemed to be working on at her desk, giving Shepard and Tali a curious look.

"First Kaidan carried you in, then you carry Tali in?" she said with a slight smile on her face. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Some asshole C-Sec officer tried to beat Tali up," Shepard said, gently setting her down on the medical table which Shepard had already become associated with on two previous occasions. "She's having trouble walking—is there anything you can do for her?"

Doctor Chakwas frowned slightly as she turned back around and pulled out a small machine.

"Put your leg out," was all she said as she ran the machine past Tali's leg. In a moment, a hologram appeared on the back wall, as Doctor Chakwas observed the image.

"It looks like you cracked a bone or two," she said, pointing at a thin line which was evident on the hologram. "Good thing Shepard carried you—if you were walking on that, it could have caused even more damage." Shepard looked over at Tali with a slight smirk, glad that he hadn't given in to her demands.

"Should be easy to fix, right?" Shepard asked. After all, Shepard had taken a bullet to the stomach and he wouldn't have known it himself after what Chawkwas did, were it not for the scar on his skin.

"Absolutely," she said, nodding her head. "Just a few painkillers and a little bit of medical magic, and she'll be just fine."

Convinced that Tali was in good hands, Shepard nodded once. "I need to go take care of some more business with the Admirals before we leave the Citadel—are you two okay?"

In response, Tali quietly nodded her head, looking down at her wounded leg.

"We're just fine," Doctor Chakwas said as she put her hand into one of the many cabinets above her desk.

Shepard nodded his goodbye, and slipped out the doorway, allowing it to silently close behind him.

Shepard yawned once again, realizing only now how tired he really was. How long had he been awake now? It had to have been close to fifty hours at this point.

Shepard stepped back upstairs, heading back to the airlock where he had tossed the plastic bag containing the metabolic boosters and adrenaline shots before he had picked up and carried Tali down to the med bay. Stepping past the galaxy map, he saw Ashley and Pressley quietly chatting, stopping mid-sentence to give Shepard a salute. Nodding to them, he continued on his way, heading over to his discarded supplies.

Maybe he would try some of that coffee before he went back out to check with the Admirals—he could use the boost. How was it served, again? Was it cold, or hot? It had been so long since he had seen the strange drink—he must have only been seven or so when his father had bought a small bag of the rare drink.

Before his father had died, Shepard thought glumly, though he quickly shook the thoughts out of his head—with some pleasure when he realized how easily he could shake the thoughts from his mind. With a slight smile, he embraced the bag of coffee with his right arm as he turned around and stepped back toward the staircase leading down to the floor with his cabin.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

My apologies for the later-than-usual upload—I spent the last few days in Los Angeles, away from an internet connection. Assuming that there are no nasty surprises, the schedule should continue as usual from here on.

A quick request to those who have read the entire story from the beginning—how is my writing? As the author, I don't have the best gauge for how strong my own writing is—so I'm not certain if I'm improving due to practice, or if I'm getting worse because I've been writing so much. Either way, please let me know, and if you know how, please let me know how to improve my own writing! It's something that I've been striving to do.

In terms of actual story content, please let me know how you feel about that as well! Sometimes, when everything is present in my mind, I forget to write things into the story and I may accidentally leave the readers in the dust about a particular event or history or the details of the inner workings of something. In any scenario, as usual, please let me know (via review, private message or email), and I'll try my best to fix the error as well as get back to you.

Once again, thanks for reading!


	14. Sunset

Shepard stepped into his cabin, locking the door behind him as he plopped down onto his bed, already feeling exhausted—and the day had practically just begun.

He had quickly headed back to the human embassies after making sure Tali was fine, and not much had changed since their last meeting. Apparently, Admiral Belford had talked with Liara, but couldn't get any information out of her—though Shepard wasn't particularly surprised by that revelation. With the lack of any additional info, Anderson had sent Shepard on his way to New Canton, close to a twelve hour trip, where they would have to try and stop the assassins from killing any additional targets.

The mission was definitely a stretch compared to what Shepard was used to—even as an Alliance recognized infiltrator, he wasn't commonly provided missions that required him to perform as a counter assassin—he was usually on the other end of the rifle. The fact that there were four different people that the Alliance predicted to be in gravest danger only made the task more difficult, as Shepard would be forced to split his squad up to cover all possibilities.

Once they got to New Canton, they could deal with whatever needed to be done. Chances were, even if the assassins were in league with Saren, they likely wouldn't have had the same training or expertise that Shepard had. It wasn't cockiness that pervaded his thoughts, but rather well calculated confidence. Provided that Shepard was careful and cautious, the assassins wouldn't stand a chance.

But that could all wait—they had a long time until they arrived at New Canton, since Joker had only just navigated his way out of the dock a few minutes ago, and there was certainly time for rest.

Shepard leaned back on his bed, still wearing his scarred suit of combat armor—he had forgotten to even look into getting it fixed—and yawned as he closed his eyes, sleep overtaking him.

Then his eyes shot open as he realized that he couldn't go to sleep.

Not that he wasn't capable of sleep—there was nothing more that he wanted right now. But he couldn't bring himself to lie down and give in. Even through the simplicity of the day, receiving orders, buying a few things and even beating down an abusive C-Sec officer, it had been a great day in Shepard's books—one of the best in a long time. There was no cloud of dread or guilt that hung over him like a net, restricting his every move. He felt alive once again—and he knew that as soon as he closed his eyes to sleep, the guilt, the pain, the sorrow, it would all rush back to him in a moment, crushing everything that he felt now.

Groggily rubbing his eyes, Shepard sat up on the edge of his bed, reaching over at the plastic bag which was filled with adrenaline and metabolic boosters. Grabbing onto one of the metabolic boosters—which was a fairly nondescript looking tube with a blue label wrapped around it—he pulled the plastic cap off, revealing a metal needle which stuck out the bottom.

Sliding the needle into the vein in his left wrist—barely even registering the slight pain—he squeezed on the bottle until the clear liquid had mostly drained out of the container, the boosters now flowing through Shepard's system. Replacing the cap on the empty tube, Shepard tossed it aside.

The effects weren't quite instantaneous, but Shepard could certainly feel it. A warmth spread through his body as he felt a certain kind of hyper-ness which made him feel like running. The sleepiness he had felt slowly faded away, leaving Shepard feeling awake, at the very least. As long as Shepard's body would comply, the metabolic boosters would stop him from collapsing in the middle of a conversation. In times of more urgent need, the adrenaline packs which he could insert into his armor would be automatically administered, making sure that he had the necessary edge in combat.

Standing up straight and shaking his head, he stretched his arms out in front of him as he silently opened the doors of his cabin, stepping out into the crew area.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

With two subtle pulls of the trigger, and a pair of thunderous cracks, the two titans standing a few hundred meters away fell to the ground, the sound of their armor crashing into the ground audible even at the great distance.

Lifting his hefty sniper off the rock which he had been perched on, the tall, slim man slid down the cliff, barely making a sound as he skidded across the rocks. His slim armor hardly added to his already insignificant girth, making him move like a shadow across the terrain dimly lit by one of the moons that circled around this planet.

Dashing across the dirt and stone, his supple leather shoes barely making a sound, the man stood next to the two dead behemoths who had fallen forward onto their faces, weapons still clipped onto their backs.

It was unmistakable—there was no other who used these kinds of rifles. They were specially designed, and massive in size and capable of rapid-firing one gram pellets rather than the milligram sized flakes which most assault rifles typically fired. The results were devastating—a weapon capable of doing more damage than a sniper rifle and simultaneously capable of putting out more than one hundred and twenty rounds per minute.

To compensate for the massive amount of recoil that was created from the much heavier pellets, the weapons had a variety of internal shock absorption systems that were nothing like he had ever seen before in the Alliance. In fact, he had never seen anything like it before—it was a marvel of engineering.

But no amount of shock absorption would mitigate the simple fact that there was nearly twenty times as much recoil force compared to the standard Avenger assault rifle—which is where the massive suits of armor came in.

Weighing in at nearly a hundred kilos, the thick metal plating was an inch thick in most places, and nearly three inches thick near the chest place and other stationary parts, meaning that even standard issue sniper rifles wouldn't have a chance of penetrating the thick metal plates. There was a small clasp located right underneath the right shoulder, where the butt of the assault rifle would readily snap into, dissipating its incredible recoil across the entire chest plate, sufficiently reducing its pressure so that the rifle could be fired non-stop without fear of losing control.

It was terribly efficient—capable of cutting through cover and any armor with absolute ease. There was no escaping their bullets—so you had to escape their sight. As much protection as the heavy suits of armor afforded them, they were nearly immobile, making careful technique and maneuvering key when dealing with their troops.

Of course, no standard distribution weapons would even penetrate their thick armor—so flight was the most intelligent course in most scenarios.

But what he carried in his hands was far from standard issue.

It was an old skill he had learned, modifying weaponry. When he had first found one of their majestic rifles, he had torn it apart, rebuilding it from scratch multiple times until he had imprinted the guts of the machine into his mind. Using the knowledge, he had created the rifle he held in his hands—weighing nearly fifty kilos, which was massive in comparison to even the heaviest anti-material rifles back in the Alliance, but it was capable of sending a twenty gram slug at six thousand meters per second, still considerably slower than most sniper rifles, but undeniably more effective.

And the evidence of that could be seen before him—the way that the bullet had simply sheared straight through the thick, three inch heavy metal plating that covered the man's chest and even exited through the equally thick plating in the back. This rifle put even their armor to shame—and he had every intent of doing so whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Using his foot, he rolled over one of the heavy men onto his back, out of the blood which was pooling on the ground. The familiar logo was emblazoned on the man's chest—the bloody cross of sacrifice.

He would make them sacrifice—he would kill every last one of them. Even if it brought him to his knees, he would make them all suffer as long as he could.

To suffer as he had.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"What's our ETA, Joker?" Shepard asked over the intercom in his chambers.

"About two hours, commander," came the reply from the speakers above. There was still some more time until they arrived—and there was some business that Shepard wanted to take care of.

Reaching underneath his bed, he pulled out a knife that the requisitions officer had kindly picked up for him. It was quite similar to his own, as a matter of fact, but there were subtle differences—the handle was made of a strong polycarbonate, and looked shiny and new rather than old and worn. And the metal blade still shone with a virgin glow—no red stain tainting its surface.

Gently sliding it out of its metal sheath, Shepard admired the craftsmanship in the blade—the Alliance had never been one to skimp out on construction. It was sharp, and would remain sharp for many years due to the manufacturing process which compressed many layers of steel until the blade was extremely dense.

Sliding the blade back into its sheath, he tossed it on top of his bed, standing up and stepping out into the hallway.

Walking past Kaidan—who was sitting at a table eating out of a box of rations—he headed to the elevator, which would take him down to the armory. He hit the button and sat back, waiting for the doors to reopen.

Once they reopened, Shepard saw the massive form of the krogan standing off in one corner, the corner opposite to where Garrus was currently busy at a terminal. Wrex, noticing Shepard's arrival, stood up straight and walked up to the elevator.

"Nice ship, Shepard," he said, gesturing behind him. "Looks good for hunting things."

"Has Kaidan given you a locker and the basic rundown of things?"

"Yeah, though I could barely fit my shotgun inside," he said with a chuckle. "The weapons you humans use are so small—you should really upgrade."

"My shotgun works well enough," Shepard said with a smirk. This krogan was strange—so far, the only one that hadn't tried to kill him on first sight. Before he had happened to start seeing them everywhere, he had heard tales of the monstrous creatures—massive, incredibly powerful, and even capable of tissue regeneration. Despite their terrifying reputation, Shepard had already fell one of the beasts using a simple army knife, but he wasn't about to discount both the psychological benefits of having a krogan on his side, as well as the simple battle logistics.

He was another pair of hands to hold a gun.

Regardless of the lack of hostility at this point, Shepard wasn't planning on turning a blind eye on Wrex simply because he was on his ship. Shepard had made sure to arrange a soldier always on duty in the vicinity of Wrex, well-armed in the event that he needed to put the krogan down hard. Likewise, he always carried both his blade and his pistol with him when he wandered about the ship, and he had cautioned the other members on his ship to do similarly—even Doctor Chakwas had a pistol clipped on her side.

"Why did you want to come aboard?" Shepard asked, curious of the krogan's motivations. His sudden—and slightly forced—addition to the Normandy crew had come as a surprise to Shepard, and he hadn't really provided an explanation. Perhaps if he could hear Wrex explain himself, it would alleviate some of his fears.

"You're hunting Saren, right?" Wrex said. When Shepard nodded, he continued. "I've been meaning to get back at that little pyjak, so this seemed like the way to do it."

Shepard nodded, satisfied enough with the explanation for the time being. There was always the possibility that the krogan himself was a spy for Saren, but he didn't think that he would switch sides so quickly—after all, Wrex had been directly responsible for Tali's continued existence.

Shepard stepped past Wrex, beginning to head down the ramp towards engineering.

"Also, the damn casino took all my creds," Wrex said sheepishly. "Seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone."

Shepard stopped, looking back at Wrex. "You're not on the Alliance payroll… you know that, right?"

Wrex nodded. "But I'm sure you'll feed the hungry krogan when he needs to eat," he said with a chuckle.

Shepard turned around, smiling slightly to himself. What a strange krogan.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"How are the new power conduits working, Adams?" Tali asked, glancing over at the engineer who was, as always, busy working away at the central terminal.

Adams glanced over at her for a brief moment. "They're a definite improvement—we can reroute twenty-seven point six percent more power now."

Tali nodded, satisfied with the upgrade. She herself had installed the conduits—it wasn't particularly difficult, she only had to climb down underneath the central core and replace the conduit while simultaneously being careful not to knock anything else out of place, but the accomplishment still made her proud. She was making a difference on this ship—and that was more than she could have said about anything else in her life.

Looking back, even on the Fleet, she was like a dead weight. She had thought that she was helping her father, whenever he asked her to go take care of some menial task, but in reality, it was more likely that he had given her the tasks merely to get her out of the way rather than to actually accomplish anything. In between his research of the geth, and working with the rest of the admiralty board, he hadn't had any time to spend with his family, and later, with Tali.

Tali frowned slightly under her mask at recalling the times when she had asked her father if he could take her to the trading stalls on the ship, or when she had asked if he could take her to one of the admiralty board meetings. He had said "no" so many times that it was difficult to even remember if he had ever agreed at all.

But there was the one time—one precious memory that Tali still carried.

Before her mother had died, back when her father hadn't become so quiet, so invested in his work, one day, Tali had asked if she could buy a new tapestry to put up in their small chamber. At first, as always, her father had quietly chastised her, telling her that he was too busy, but then her mother had come in, calmly pleading to her father while she wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Eventually, her father had broken down and given in, finally agreeing to take a few hours off work and visit the market stalls with his family. Tali remembered the excitement she had felt that day, finally being able to visit the market.

But most of all, she was happy to finally be able to be with her father when he wasn't working.

Even when they went to the markets, he was mostly quiet—he didn't speak much unless he was giving somebody an order or quietly chastising his daughter. They had browsed through an assortment of vendors, until her father found one.

"It suits you perfectly," he said, pointing to the softly colored purple tapestry which was hanging on the wall at one of the stalls. "It's elegant, beautiful, and special," he had explained to her. "Just like you."

Those words resounded through Tali's head now. When she had been young, those words hadn't meant much to her, but now, she would give up so much just to hear those words from her father's lips again.

But she knew it was a false hope.

Wrapped up her nostalgia, she hardly even noticed when Shepard came up behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oh, hi, Shepard," she said, turning to face him. Adams gave Tali a quick glance, but returned returned to his terminal without any indication that he was worried she wasn't working.

"How are you feeling, Tali?" Shepard asked, gesturing to her legs. Tali looked down at her own legs, barely even recalling the attack she had suffered only a day ago. On this ship, time seemed to move so quickly—it felt like years ago that she had been lying on the ground, suffering the beating she had taken so that she wouldn't lose everything that she had.

And then Shepard had rescued her—again. It seemed to be happening far too frequently—what would he think? Maybe he would think that she was too weak to be on the Normandy, that she should stay somewhere safer.

But the Normandy _was_the safest place she could be—it was the only place where she truly felt at home. Once she had gotten past the eerie silence of the ship—in no small part due to the subtle buzzing of the device Shepard had given her—the Normandy felt like as much of a home as the Fleet did. Adams never treated her strangely just because she was a quarian, and even the other crewmembers hadn't really paid much attention to her—except for the strange soldier who always wore pink armor. But one out of a few dozen was certainly better than what she faced on any other colony or planet.

"I'm feeling fine," Tali said honestly. It was true—she wasn't sure how Doctor Chakwas had managed it, but she had completely eliminated her pain. There was a thin metal brace which she had attached to her foot, but she had forgotten about its presence completely. She seemed to have a very strong knowledge of quarian physiology—though she wasn't sure how or why she had such knowledge—and had even administered painkillers which were designed specifically for quarians.

"I'm glad Doctor Chakwas could patch you up," Shepard said with a smile. "I wanted to show you something, do you think you could come with me for a minute?"

"Uh, I don't know…" she said, looking over at Adams. Apparently, he had been listening in on their conversation anyways, as he looked over at them and nodded his approval to Shepard.

"Sure," Tali said, suddenly free of commitment. What did Shepard want to show her? Maybe some new piece of equipment?

"Shepard," a disembodied voice said—it sounded like the snappy pilot. Shepard's omni-tool lit up, and he stopped for a moment. "I think you should come up her—I think the turian just punched Ashley."

Frowning, Shepard spoke back into his omni-tool. "I'll be right there." He looked over at Tali helplessly and shrugged once. "I guess I'll show you later," he said as he jogged away, running towards the elevator which would take him back upstairs.

Similarly shrugging, Tali turned around and returned to her work—just a couple of system power distributions as well as a modification of the VI targeting protocols and identification programming.

Simple stuff.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"What's wrong, _turian,"_Ashley spat, scowling angrily at Garrus. "Did I hurt your hand?"

Garrus clenched his fists again, ready to punch her again if he needed to. After all, he hadn't attacked to do damage, only to dissuade. But if she kept it up, he wouldn't hesitate breaking her nose.

"I'll hit you again if you don't shut up," Garrus said angrily, still crouched slightly in a very predatory looking position, ready to pounce.

This damn human. At first, she hadn't been a problem at all—if they passed in the hallway, or if they were forced to occupy the same room, she would just divert her gaze and pretend to be preoccupied with some kind of nonsense—a deal that was perfectly fine with Garrus. She could keep to herself, and Garrus would do the same.

But then, recently, she had started giving him these looks of disgust and hatred, as if she were couldn't even bear to breathe as soon as she saw him. At first, Garrus thought it was curious—perhaps it was some human emotion he wasn't familiar with. But disgust translated fairly easily, even between alien races—it was unmistakable.

When he had tried to question her about it, she had simply spat in his face, refusing to even address him by his name. Then she had tried to accuse him of being a spy for the turian council, plotting some kind of underhanded scheme to kill Commander Shepard.

And then he had punched her in the face.

"All you damned turians are the same," Ashley snarled, clenching her fists tightly. Glancing to the side, Garrus could see two other crewmembers looking their way, but Garrus paid them no mind.

"I haven't done a damn thing to you," Garrus protested. It was unfair—she was treating him like garbage just because he had the luck of the draw to be born as a turian instead of as a human.

"Not yet," she said, an almost crazed look in her eyes. "But how long until you put that fancy sniper rifle to use on something that isn't a geth?"

"Shut up!" Garrus shouted, his temper escaping him once more as he swung another fist at the woman, fully intending her hit her hard in the face this time.

To his surprise, his fist merely slipped through the air, whisking above her head as she ducked down and drove her shoulder heavily into his chest, barreling him to the floor with a loud crash as his armor scraped along the metal floor.

"God damned turian," Ashley said, rage evidence in her expression. Climbing on top of the prone Garrus, she cocked back her hand and launched her fist heavily into Garrus' face, a blow that he couldn't dodge while he was stuck on the ground like this. Gritting past the pain, he kicked his legs, trying to roll the heavy woman off of him while simultaneously bringing his hands up to his face to try and stop her from inflicting any more harm.

Just as Ashley gripped onto Garrus' arms with one of her hands and was ready to slide in another hefty punch through his defenses, there was a shout from behind.

"Stand down!" Shepard shouted, angrily stomping in from behind. With some satisfaction, Garrus watched as Ashley got off from on top of Garrus, still obviously fuming but not willing to disobey Shepard's orders. At least it looked like she was the one who had started the conflict—and it was her fault, after all.

"What the hell is going on here?" Shepard demanded, looking between the two of them with anger evident in his eyes as well—though when he compared it to what he had seen on Therum, it felt more like disappointment than true anger.

"The turian punched me, sir," Ashley said quietly, her hands still balled into fists at her side. Garrus quickly climbed up to his feet, not wanting Ashley to think that she had won their confrontation by any means.

"She called me a spy and an assassin," Garrus retorted, glancing over at Ashley.

"All turians are the same," Ashley said, leaning towards Garrus threateningly.

"What the hell did I do to—"

"Stand down!" Shepard shouted again as Garrus and Ashley rapidly turned their attention to Shepard and stood straight.

"What's your problem with Garrus, Williams?" Shepard demanded sternly, staring at Ashley, who matched his angry gaze with her own.

"He punched me, sir," she replied, shooting another angry glance over at Garrus.

Shepard sighed, knowing that Garrus hadn't simply attacked Ashley without reason. From everything he had seen of Garrus, he had a calm, level minded head—but obviously something had made him lose his temper.

"And why did you punch her, Garrus?" Shepard asked, as if he were chastising children. Garrus felt a sudden pang of disappointment in himself—for allowing himself to be goaded by Ashley, and for losing his temper and hitting her.

"She was treating me with disrespect, sir," he quietly said, making sure to respectfully add "sir" to the end of his sentence as Ashley had.

Shepard looked between the two of them, appearing to be tired of the conflict. "I don't want to see either of you fighting again—otherwise I'm dropping the two of you off the next time we land at the Citadel," he said, letting the threat hang in the air for a moment.

Garrus nodded solemnly, and Ashley gave Shepard a loose looking salute.

"Now get your gear together, the both of you—we land in New Canton in a few hours."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard sat down in the co-pilot's chair, monitoring the slow approach as they neared New Canton, the small, grey colored sphere gaining definition as it grew closer.

After Shepard had broken up the fight between Ashley and Garrus, he had initially planned on calling Tali back up but he had decided that it could wait for a little while longer. It wasn't really an urgent request, after all—he could always call her back up after they finished with what they needed to do on New Canton.

And he needed those few short hours to work out how he was going to deal with the situation on New Canton. After some deliberation, he had decided on a simple plan—there were four different potential targets that could lie dead come morning, and Shepard's task was twofold—to make sure that none of the targets died, and to make sure that the assassins were discovered and unearthed.

The entire ground squad would be needed for this task—but discretion was required. For that reason, Wrex was out of the picture—furthermore, Shepard wasn't certain where the krogan's loyalties lied quite yet, and until that was sorted out, precise missions like this were off the table.

"Call the ground squad up to the airlock," Shepard quietly said to Joker.

Joker glanced back at him for a moment, nodding his head. "Right on it, Commander."

As Joker spoke into the terminal in front of him, calling on each of his squad mates one by one, Shepard continued to watch through the front window at the growing buildings and landscapes of New Canton. It was quite a beautiful place—the city that they were approaching rumored to rival the constructions on the Citadel. From their vantage point far away from the planet, Shepard could see the stark line where the light from the glowing red star was fast receding, dashing towards the glowing spot where they were designated to land at. Once that line of darkness passed over the city, the assassins would strike again.

At least, that's what they hoped. The entire plan hinged on that fact alone—otherwise they would be spending many more hours than they had originally planned simply watching the daily lives of the potential victims.

They quickly dived down towards the city, the tall buildings coming into view as the massive scale of the city quickly began to make itself evident to Shepard. It was always as such—from far away, it had appeared to be nothing more than a speck, but up close, it spread out over nearly fifty miles, tall buildings stretching up miles into the sky past the thin layer of clouds. All the buildings were adorned with a variety of lights and billboards, filled with glowing advertisements of all sorts—some advertising theatrical performances, other new omni-tool models, and some advertising simple things like new energy drinks which claimed to provide a ten percent performance boost in the average citizen's lifestyle. It all felt so bland, so ordinary, yet at the same time, so peaceful.

So naively unaware of the threats that lurked near their borders.

New Canton was certainly a great target—the grand city housed millions of people, many humans and also a large variety of asari and salarians according to census data, but it also held one of the larger Alliance reserve forces due to the population that was housed on the planet. A simple attack like the one that had taken place on Eden Prime would have been doomed to failure, the geth lines collapsing under the bombs and cannons of the many Alliance warships that were stationed here even now. But if the chain of succession was sliced away, bit by bit, if there was nobody to command the war ships, the entire colony would fall into chaos—enough chaos that it would be easy enough to overrun, taking away a major asset from the Alliance—both in terms of resources, and in terms of morale.

It was for that reason that these assassination attempts had to be stopped—even though only a few lives were at stake, those few lives played a role greater than even they likely knew.

His ground team had gathered outside the cockpit behind him, consisting of Garrus, Tali, Kaidan and Ashley—he noticed that Garrus and Ashley were located on opposite sides of the hallway—all equipped and ready. He noted curiously that Kaidan wasn't wearing his typical navy blue suit of thick and heavy combat armor, but rather a thinner, more lightweight suit that would be easier to maneuver in. Ashley and Garrus still both donned their traditional suits of thick battle armor, but that would make them more effective in tailing the more immobile targets.

Standing up to face his crew, Shepard began to speak in a loud, authoritative voice.

"Do you all know the purpose of this mission?" Everybody in front of him nodded, having received the mission briefs that were provided a couple hours ago. They would have detailed the general situation and what needed to be done. "Good. The four targets that we're going to need to protect are Clinton Norrel, the president, Nelson Morrison, an ambassador, Grace Cooper, a political advisor, and Corporal Vincent Sutter."

"We have to make sure that none of these targets die, first and foremost," Shepard continued. "But we also have to make sure that we find out who the assassins are—otherwise we'll have no way to strike back."

"We'll be splitting up to cover all possible avenues—Garrus and Tali, you're both going to be tailing Corporal Sutter." Garrus and Tali were the least proven of his squad, though he still would have trusted either with his lives at this point—though why he would was unknown to him. He had only known the two of them for a few weeks, yet they felt very much at home aboard the Normandy.

But that was unimportant right now—his mind was drifting. He had to focus at the topic at hand. He would send Garrus and Tali to tail Sutter because the corporal likely had considerable military experience of his own, which meant that he would more likely than not be able to protect himself. As well, he had no intention of sending Tali on her own—he didn't want to have to force her into a position where she was forced into killing another person—not so soon after Therum—and he knew that Garrus was a solid soldier.

"Ashley, you'll take Nelson Morrison." Ashley was a solid soldier who Shepard hadn't seen in action yet, but her multiple commendations and the fact she was still alive after Eden Prime said something about her expertise. Nelson Morrison was an ambassador who often travelled between planets, meaning that compared to the remaining targets, she likely had some kind of shielding or combat experience as well, which meant that Ashley had more room for error.

"Kaidan, you'll follow Grace Cooper." The political advisor was likely one of the least defended targets, and Shepard knew that Kaidan would keep her safe. The man was a good soldier, and his biotics would go a long way to making sure that his target wouldn't be injured.

"And I'll follow Clinton Norrel," Shepard finished with a nod. His expertise as an infiltrator meant that stopping the assassins would only be a matter of treating it as if he were going to assassinate Norrel—if he could find the best avenues of attack, so could the assassins. Since Norrel was also acting as the colonial president, he was a high-value target, so there was a high chance that he would be under heavier fire than the other targets if he were to come under attack—but Shepard was fairly confident in his abilities to deal with a few assassins.

"When you follow your targets, make sure to stay close enough to help, but far enough to stay out of sight," Shepard began to explain. "We want the assassins to believe that their victims are unprotected, to draw them out."

"But won't the assassins kill them?" Tali said pointedly.

"Each of the targets will most likely have a shielding module on them," Garrus explained. "Most people who have roles in public governance or the military have their own modules."

"That's right," Shepard said, agreeing with Garrus' explanation. "That means that when they strike, we should have enough time to chase them away."

"But what if they just snipe them through a window?" Ashley asked.

"We have to hope that doesn't happen," Shepard admitted. "There are a lot of unknowns on this mission, but every time before, they've taken a finger from their victim—which means they've been in close range."

"And that gives us a chance to strike," Kaidan finished.

"Precisely," Shepard said with a smile. "Now let's go take care of these assassins."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The presidential lifestyle certainly seemed to be a boring one—at least in the short hour that Shepard had been observing Norrel. The entire time that Shepard had been perched in one of the decorative cubbies which were all around the roof, all the mousy man had done was type at the terminal in front of him, occasionally stretching his arms or taking a short walk around his office.

"How much longer?" Shepard whispered into the communicator inside of his helmet, which was connected to all of his squadmates on the ground as well as Joker back on the Normandy.

"We've got a couple minutes until sundown," Joker replied.

"Report any activity as soon as you see it," Shepard warned to his squadmates. There was no way of knowing who the assassins would strike at—and they all had to be ready to provide assistance as soon as possible. The president, the political advisor, and the ambassador were all located near each other—by a stroke of luck they all had offices inside of the ten storey government building located near the center of the colony—but the corporal was a bit further away. He was located in another building which was about a half a mile away from this one, where the corporal had temporarily taken the position of the ruling admiral upon his death.

Shepard stifled a yawn as he continued to watch the president in front of him. The man wouldn't be able to defend himself if the assassins struck—he had no weapons, not even a pistol holstered at his side, though Shepard had seen the telltale bulge of a shield module at his hip. Hopefully he had invested in a strong shield—otherwise things might turn poor very quickly.

Shepard had been confident that he could take on the assassins if they attacked, but he wasn't so certain of it anymore. Seeing the slim, weak looking man in front of him gave him uncertain afterthoughts—he could only hope that the others weren't facing similar doubts.

Tapping on his omni-tool a few times, Shepard made sure that both his cloaking module, as well as an adrenaline injection were both at the ready in the event that he needed them. He would most likely activate the adrenaline soon—his suit automatically injecting it into his bloodstream—but he would save his cloaking module for when he needed it most.

Based on his estimation, there were few places where the assassins could strike without blowing the entire floor away from the building. There was a small window on the wall next to Norrel that a man could easily fit through, but it didn't seem like a prudent way to strike—there was simply too much risk involved in climbing on the side of the building and through the windows.

The other option was the front door—similarly unlikely due to the inherent risks of walking in the front door of the president's office, unless they were in disguise, or were working as a double agent at this very office. That was always a possibility—Shepard had to make sure that nobody who came in could pose a threat to the man.

The final possibility—and most likely, considering the other two options—would be if they entered the room through the large grate which was located on the ceiling, which was connected to the ventilation systems of the building. It was horribly clichéd, but in all reality, the air vents did provide the stealthiest angle of attack—though it was still a difficult entrance method, as it opened them to attack for a few moments as they fell and regained their bearings.

Perhaps Shepard should have taken one of the other targets—the president, despite looking weak and defenseless, had inherent advantages in his office that could be easily manipulated by any other member in his squad. Whether the political advisor or the ambassador had a similar situation was unknown to him—but if either of them were in danger, Shepard could easily make his way to them in a moment's notice.

"Sundown in thirty seconds," Joker said over the intercom. Tensing slightly in anticipation, Shepard activated the adrenaline shots, warmth and a sudden hyperactivity flowing through his veins, making him itch slightly in his armor.

In a few moments, they would find the assassins—and then they would stop them. If the assassins were working with Saren, this would be their first chance to truly strike a blow at the traitorous spectre.

"Ten, nine, eight," Joker began to count down. Shepard gripped tightly onto the pistol at his side, waiting to see what would happen.

"Five, four, three, two, one."

Shepard crouched in silence, listening for any hint of noise that might betray the presence of the assassins. But there was nothing—just the quiet tapping of Norrel on his terminal.

Had they been following the wrong targets? Had the assassins attacked somebody else? Maybe they were—

"Contact!" Garrus' voice came shouting through the communicator.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you've been enjoying what I've been working with.

Let me know what you think about the little escapades that I'll be making away from the standard storyline—I wanted some way to spice things up, because I'm certain that almost everybody who is bothering to read my tale has already played through Mass Effect, therefore, doesn't want to just read what they've already witnessed.

For those of you who have followed or favorited me or my tale, I'd like to extend a personal thanks to you—even though I'm not going to specify your names (but you know who you are)! It's not a huge thing, but clicking that "favorite" or "follow" button sends me a lovely email which helps with my self-esteem and makes writing these chapters so much more satisfying than it already is.

Anyways, as always, thanks for reading, and I'll see you in another few days!


	15. Mistakes

**:: Chapter Fifteen :: **Mistakes **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_There's a voice and a million answers_

_To the questions I don't ask,_

_A demon I have to contain._

_When I'm walking through the fen,_

_Going deep into the black,_

_There are whispers I can't restrain._

_-Avantasia-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Shepard quickly engaged his cloaking module, jumping down from his perch—ignoring the terrified scream of the man behind him at the sudden bang as the invisible man crashed into the ground and as his doors suddenly blew open.

"How many are there?" Shepard asked hurriedly into his communicator.

"At least six, Shepard," Tali said back. "The corporal's fighting them off with us, but I don't know how much longer we can hold off for!"

"Damnit," Shepard said under his breath. If he couldn't make it there fast enough, the corporal would be done for—not to mention Garrus and Tali.

Damnit, what the hell was he thinking? It was his god damned arrogance again, thinking that he could stop a team of expert assassins by himself. It was always his damned arrogance that got people hurt.

Dashing past the elevator and running down the stairwell, swinging around the corners using the railings, he disengaged his cloaking module and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, nearly free falling down the stairs.

Why couldn't the assassin have attacked any of the other targets? Kaidan and Ashley were both accomplished soldiers, but Garrus and Tali? Damnit, he should have brought an entire platoon of soldiers with him!

Garrus might be able to hold his own for a few minutes, but Tali? Shepard had sent her along with Garrus because he knew that her technical skills would be invaluable both in gaining access to the corporal's chambers and in dealing with shields, but he knew that she wasn't in a position to shoot anybody—not after what had happened on Therum.

Damnit, why couldn't it have just been one assassin?

Dashing out the front door in disregard to the startled secretary at the government office, he ran into the now-dark parkway in front of the building, running past the fountain and taking a sharp turn into an alleyway which would led him away from all the traffic and anything else that might get in his way.

He had to run as fast as he could—nobody else could die.

Why did he even have so many regrets? Why hadn't he thought through all the possibilities? He should have expected this—and every bone in his body told him that now. Had he overlooked some fatal detail?

Or was it his own stubborn refusal to sleep that reduced his mental capabilities so far that he was no longer even capable of planning a simple mission?

Shepard shook the self-doubt out of his head—no, it couldn't have been that. Kaidan would have pointed something out otherwise—he wouldn't have hesitated if he knew something was wrong.

Just around this corner—the military complex is just around the corner…

Shepard dashed around the corner into the next alleyway, nearly barreling face first into a turian standing in his way wearing a suit of stark white armor and carrying a shotgun in his hands.

Shepard dug his heels into the ground, trying to stop himself as he watched with horror at the turian casually lifting the barrel of his shotgun, a vicious looking smile on his face. Shepard clawed at his back for his own shotgun, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to pull it out in time.

With a loud bang, Shepard felt all the air being slammed out of his lungs, his vision going blank as he realized that he had flown backwards into the wall behind him. Rapidly putting a hand to his stomach, he realized that he wasn't bleeding—his shields had absorbed most of the fatal energy of the rounds—but the turian was still standing a few meters away from him—ready to kill him.

As Shepard's vision returned, the blurry image of the turian's armor came into view, his shotgun casually spinning in his grip as he slowly walked towards Shepard.

"So weak," the turian mocked in his deep voice. "This is what I get from the Hero of Elysium?"

The turian levelled his shotgun at Shepard once more, and this time, Shepard knew it would be a fatal shot. He had been lucky that his shields had even been capable of taking a single shot at point blank range—he was staring at his death sentence head on.

Without thinking, Shepard grasped the worn handle of his combat knife, flicking his wrist as he sent the blade hurtling end over end at the turian's wrist.

Stunned by the sudden pain flashing through his arm, the turian dropped his shotgun, turning his attention to the long metal blade that had seemingly just appeared between the seams in his armor. Gritting through the pain, he violently yanked the blade out from between the armor, a gout of blood following the metal blade. Anger filled his eyes as he gripped tightly onto the pistol at his side as he prepared to end the insolent human's life.

He turned his attention back to Shepard, pointing his pistol at where the man lied against the wall—as he simultaneously received a heavy fist to the face, knocking him flat onto the ground where he helplessly scrabbled for the pistol which had fallen from his grasp.

A heavy foot landed on his back, pushing the air from his chest, as a silent flash of white ended his life.

Breathing heavily—both from shock and from his exertions—Shepard picked his knife off of the ground, solemnly wiping the blood from its lustrous surface onto the dead turian's leg before he slid it back into its sheath at his own leg.

_Salu Karah,_Shepard reiterated into his mind. The Salu Karah mercenaries were the ones behind this attack—the prideful logo stamped both onto this turian's armor and on his neck were evidence of that.

Were they a new upstart band of mercenaries? Shepard had never heard the strange name before—though the dead turian in front of him had been well equipped and likely would have killed Shepard—but only if he had not been Shepard and had instead been someone else.

No time to think about it now, though—precious time was trickling away. He had the information he needed, and now he just needed to make sure that nobody else died tonight—nobody except for these mercenaries.

Shepard continued to sprint through the alleyways, this time with his shotgun ready in his hands, as he approached the military building where Corporal Sutter would be residing.

Or was, Shepard thought as a horrible image crossed his mind. Was Garrus lying on the ground in a broken, scarred heap, Tali beside him, shattered mask splattered with blood?

Shivering involuntarily, Shepard nervously spoke into his communicator. "Tali? Garrus?"

"We're here Commander," Garrus said through the audible sounds of gunfire. "Holding strong, but spirits, they just keep coming!"

Shepard breathed a silent sigh of relief at the continued survival of Garrus and Tali. "Kaidan, Williams—are you both en route?"

"Affirmative," came Ashley's response, followed by Kaidan's "Almost there!"

As Shepard dashed around the next corner, albeit more slowly than last time, he was greeted with the dangerous, but not as surprising sight of two more soldiers, this time both humans, dressed in the same white colored combat armor, but each toting heavy looking assault rifles on their shoulders.

"Get him!" the one man shouted, his grating voice holding an aura of authority.

Without hesitation, the two men began unloading rounds into Shepard, but this time, he wasn't going to let them have the advantage.

As they were firing, their target suddenly blinked away, vanishing before their eyes.

"Damnit! Cloaking module!" the leader shouted, the two soldiers instantly putting their backs together as they began haphazardly spraying bullets in an attempt to uncover their target.

Shepard grimaced as he observed the power levels in the display located in his helmet. Shield reserves were only at seventeen percent—his shields had only been at fifty percent after the short pause between battles, and when he had cloaked, a few stray bullets had struck him, heftily taking chunks away from his available power reserves due to the modifications that he had made to his cloaking module. But he was still alive, and he certainly held the upper hand in their engagement, no matter how coordinated these soldiers were.

The younger soldier held his assault rifle at the ready, his eyes rapidly darting back and forth as he scanned the alleyway for any sight of the man who had disappeared. He could appear at any time, ready to strike at them—but as soon as he did, he was going to put so many bullets through him that the man would be turned into mush.

As fantasises of his heroic victory over Shepard filled his mind, the very real truth of Shepard's arm suddenly materialized in front of him, swinging sideways as he found his assault rifle suddenly tossed aside, and as he found his lungs unable to find air to breathe, blood gurgling from the gash in his neck.

Spinning around to witness his companion falling to the ground without a sound, the remaining mercenary heavily swung his assault rifle in an attempt to keep the crazed warrior away from him with that cruel looking knife, the heavy barrel of his rifle finding its target.

Shepard rolled with the strike, dashing quickly to the side along with the barrel of the rifle, grabbing onto it as the last moment and jerking it to the side, unable to wrench it from the man's hands, but easily bringing the mercenary under his control as the man fell to the ground, still futilely clutching onto his lost rifle.

Spinning his knife so that it faced blade down, Shepard grasped onto it with both hands and dropped heavily onto the mercenary's chest, the sharp tip sliding with ease through the thick metal plate that protected the man's heart, ending his life just as swiftly as the first man's life had ended.

Tossing the two mercenaries to the side, briefly noting the same logos stamped on their armor, he continued to sprint towards the Corporal's office, desperately hoping that he wasn't too late.

He dashed through the front door of the building and hanging a sharp left down a dark hallway which he knew led to the stairwell which would take him to the office. Ignoring the protest from his thighs, he ran up the stairs as fast as he could, knowing that he could spare not a second more of delay.

Running out of the stairwell on the sixth floor, he saw a pair of soldiers idly standing guard outside of a large set of double doors, carrying rifles in their hands.

"Stop!" the one man shouted, pointing his rifle at Shepard, who was covered in blood, carrying a shotgun, and running headlong at them.

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Military!" Shepard shouted, hoping that they wouldn't stop him—because he certainly had no plan of stopping for them.

The one man put a hand out to try and stop him, but Shepard merely ran past him, twisting to dodge his grasp as he pushed the thick steel doors inward, swinging open to reveal the battlefield that the two guards had been so blissfully unaware of the whole time.

On the left side of the room, a metal desk had been overturned, and Shepard could see the familiar purple sight of Tali, as well as Garrus' blue metal armor. A tough looking human stood beside them, rapidly firing an assault rifle while he roared at the assassins.

On the right side stood seven men dressed in what looked to be red robes, carrying long barreled assault rifles that Shepard initially mistook to be sniper rifles. They hid behind various objects in the room—one behind a pillar, another behind a display case, all unloading rounds into the surprisingly sturdy desk that his companions bunkered down behind.

As soon as Shepard burst through the door, the assassins each looked at each other, and with a coordination that felt mystical, they simultaneously vanished, the room suddenly feeling vast and empty.

"I'll kill you all, damnit!" Corporal Sutter roared, jumping over top of his desk and firing wildly across his office, hoping to strike one of the assassins in their escape. After a few moments, his assault rifle overheated, refusing to spit out any more rounds, and he tossed the weapon to the ground, pacing back and forth as he cracked his knuckles.

"God damned wimps," the Corporal muttered as he suspiciously monitored every single crevice and corner in the room for any signs of life, brutally shoving his foot into any location that he thought might have been capable of housing one of the invisible assassins.

Garrus and Tali had stood up from behind the desk as well, both carrying their weapons in their hands. Shepard approached them, quickly scanning the two to make sure that neither of them had been wounded.

Tali was fine, as far as Shepard could tell—there wasn't a speck of blood on her. As for Garrus, he appeared to be fine as well, though his armor had taken quite a beating. None of the rounds had punched through the heavy steel, but the scrapes and gashes across its surface told a cruel story.

"They got away," Garrus said emptily, a disappointed look on his face.

"It's alright," Shepard said, though he noticed the slight flash on anger that passed across the turian's face. "I figured out who the assassins were—I ran into some of their soldiers while I was running here."

Behind Shepard, Kaidan and Ashley dashed into the room as well, both panting heavily after running up the stairs as Shepard had. They briefly looked around the room, and seeing no threat, they put their rifles at their backs.

"What happened?" Kaidan asked, looking at Shepard.

"I could ask the same to you," he said, looking at the holes that had been punched through his thinner armor near his left shoulder and right thigh. There was some dried blood on the surface, but it appeared to have stopped bleeding—assuming that was his blood.

"We ran into mercenaries—Salu Karah," Kaidan said. "They attacked us while we were trying to make it here."

"Eight of them," Ashley added. "They pushed Kaidan into a corner and I had to fight them off," she said with a smirk.

"I ran into them as well," Shepard said, pointing to some of the newer scratches that had been made on his armor, which started at his chest and spread out in all directions, most likely the scattering pellets of the shotgun.

"Now that we know who the assassins are, we can strike at their leader," Kaidan said, already having guessed what the other admirals had planned.

"But what about the targets?" Tali asked, stepping beside Kaidan. "Aren't they still in danger?"

"We can increase security and put them in safe chambers," Shepard said.

"Why didn't we just do that in the first place?" Tali asked.

"If they were overly protected or if something seemed out of the ordinary, the assassins wouldn't have attacked," Shepard explained.

"You mean… we used them as… as _bait?_"

"Not as bait," Shepard instantly refuted—but it was true. They had been bait. "They—they were under our protection," Shepard tried to explain, but looking into those disappointed eyes, he couldn't find any words to further convince her.

Tali merely nodded, appearing wholly unconvinced at his meager explanation. She turned around and walked towards the window of the building, looking out at the majestic skyline.

_Beautiful,_Shepard thought.

The city, he meant. The city was quite a sight at night—glowing advertisements, the flickering lights of skycars.

"So, what do we do now?" Garrus asked, pointing a thumb at the corporal, who was practically sniffing every corner of the room at this point. Shepard turned to face the two guards, who stood with rifles at the ready and looking around the room.

"Get Sutter an armed detail," Shepard commanded. "Twelve soldiers at all times." The soldiers gave Shepard a salute and one of them ran down the hall, heading to the elevator. The other stood by idly, occasionally glancing over at the soldiers standing around him with curiosity.

As for the other targets, Shepard would make sure that one of the admirals sent them a message detailing the potential threats that they faced, and further advice to make sure that they didn't take any unnecessary risks in the upcoming days, until they had a chance to take out the mercenary threat.

"Come on," Shepard said to his team. "Let's get going."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"You ignorant fool!" the turian hissed at the mercenary, grasping at the poor human's throat as he lifted the man off the ground.

"Sir…" the man tried to say, hands grasping desperately at the fingers wrapped around his neck.

"Shut up!" the turian shouted, clenching his fists harder as the man's face began to lose its hue. "You let him get away!"

The turian slammed the human heavily on the ground as the man tried to pitifully crawl away, gasping as he tried to fill his lungs with air. "He—he killed three of our best soldiers!"

"You humans are a disgrace!" the turian shouted, slamming a heavy foot into the man's chest, squeezing him back to the ground. "I should kill you now for your insolence—returning to me without his head."

"Please sir," the human squeaked, wrapping his puny hands around the heavy metal boot on his chest. "We've already put a tracker on his ship! We'll intercept him as soon as he lands planetside!"

The turian smiled at the way that humans always seemed to spout so many words out of their mouths when they faced death. "Then the trap is prepared?"

"It's ready! As soon as he lands, we'll kill him! I swear!"

"Yes," the turian said, as his mandibles curved cruelly. "But I think that a turian would be better suited to your position, _Captain,"_he mocked.

"I know my squad inside and out!" he sputtered, realizing where the cruel turian was going with his line of thought. "You can't replace me! They won't follow anyone else!"

"They'll follow me when they see your skin turned into a rug," the turian said with a chuckle.

"No! You can't—"

Any further protest was abruptly cut short with a resounding snap as the man's chest caved in, his lungs likely punctured by his many snapped ribs. The man looked at the turian with misty eyes, staring his murderer in the face as he coughed blood out of his mouth and onto the fine red rug. He tried to speak another word, but all that came from his doomed mouth was a torrent of blood and a weak bubbling noise.

The turian smiled, using his toe to push the dead human out of the way, to make room for the next man he had planned to call to his room.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped into the comm room, slowly walking over to the terminal at the back side of the room, tapping on the terminal a few times.

He had to call Anderson—now that they knew who was behind the assassinations, they had the power to stop the group behind it. And Anderson would know where to find them—he always had the answers. He would know where to go next.

Shepard chuckled slightly, realizing how his opinion of the man had changed in only a few short weeks. He had that kind of effect of people—he was confident, intelligent, and wasn't ever wrong—it was tough not to put trust into that kind of person. That first day that Shepard had walked upon the Normandy—it felt like years ago already—Shepard had thought that he was just another pompous Alliance Captain, full of bluster and not enough resolve—how wrong he had been to assume that!

"Shepard," came the reply, Anderson's visage appearing on the screen in front of him. "Good to hear from you. Was the mission a success?"

"Yes," Shepard replied, pacing around the room. "We intercepted—"

"Shh!" Anderson suddenly said, an urgency evident in his voice. "Not across these channels. They might be Alliance, but they're still unsecure."

"Unsecure?" Shepard asked. That was a first—Shepard had even seen information with top level confidentiality passing across the comm links—what had changed?

"We've had a security breach," Anderson explained. "A mercenary company learned of our plans to provide relief to a colony and attacked our support frigates in orbit—they destroyed two of the vessels before we had the chance to escape the area."

"Come to the Citadel," Anderson continued. "It's the safest way—that way we can use surprise to our advantage. We've got a plan already in the works—we just need to know who we'll be using it against."

"Yes, sir," Shepard said, giving Anderson a salute.

"Then get some sleep," Anderson added, a smile on his face before the screen blinked away.

"Sorry, sir," Shepard muttered to himself. "That's not happening."

Stifling a yawn, Shepard turned around and stepped out of the comm room, admiring the innate beauty of the Normandy as he always did whenever he had the chance to admire the craftsmanship that was very much evident throughout the entire vessel.

Stepping past a couple of crewmembers who were walking through the main deck of the Normandy, idly tapping at datapads, he quickly ran downstairs, heading to his chambers so that he could pick up a couple more metabolic boosters—the last ones and the mix of the adrenaline he had taken were quickly losing their effect, leaving Shepard drowsy and feeling clumsy, his armor holding him back more than it ever had before.

He went to step into his chamber, but was interrupted by Garrus, who stood outside of his room, leaning against the wall, still wearing his now horribly-scratched suit of blue armor.

"Shepard, can I ask you something?"

"Again?" Shepard replied with a chuckle. "What is it?"

"Is there time for us to make a detour to the Petra Nebula?"

Shepard thought for a moment—he was supposed to be heading back to the Citadel as soon as possible so that he could relay the vital information he had discovered.

"That depends," Shepard said, putting a hand to his chin. "What do you need to do there?"

Garrus hesitated a moment, diverting his gaze briefly before he took a deep breath. "There's a murderer—an evil scientist—that is on a ship called the MSV won't take long—we just have to get in and kill him."

"Or I can get a ride from C-Sec," Garrus said, frowning slightly.

"Why do you have to take him down? Can't somebody else do it?"

Garrus sighed, pacing nervously. "It's not just that… it's just that… I've tried to catch him before. And I failed."

"And you want to make amends," Shepard finished, understanding the situation that he was in. If only Shepard could make amends for the mistakes that he had made!

"We'll do it," Shepard said, and Garrus looked up at him in surprise. "Go tell Joker the ship's name and we'll try to intercept it."

"A—Are you sure?" Garrus stammered, not expecting Shepard to so readily agree. "I mean, don't we have important information?"

"It's important," Shepard conceded, "But I'm not going to turn down the chance to stop a criminal." What Shepard didn't say was how much Garrus seemed to remind him of himself—even though the turian was likely pretty close in age to Shepard, Shepard certainly felt older than his young face would betray.

A younger Shepard was in Garrus' eyes—a Shepard who only wanted to make the world a better place, a naïve Shepard who didn't understand that sometimes, sacrifices needed to be made in order to make those ends meet.

"Thank you for this, John," Garrus said, addressing Shepard by his first name—the first time anybody had done as such in a long time. Shepard involuntarily cringed at hearing the way Garrus so casually said it—so similar to the way that Boyd had said his name…

"Shepard," Garrus quietly corrected. "Thanks."

"You'll have to explain what he did later," Shepard said, pushing the bad memories out of his mind. "That way we can make him suffer for the evils he's committed."

Garrus nodded, giving Shepard a salute—surprisingly correct, considering that turians didn't salute—and he continued off down the hall that Shepard had come from.

Shepard stepped into his cabin, silently closing the door behind him as he rummaged through the drawer where had had packed his metabolic boosters. Finding one of them, he inserted it into his wrist and allowed the familiar warmth and energy to spread through his body, uninhibited by any outstanding thoughts of emotions. After a few minutes, Shepard shook himself out of the trance he had fallen into, tossing the empty syringe into a container where he had been loading his garbage for the time being.

Shepard quickly stripped himself of his still-heavy armor, tossing it in a pile onto the floor where it would patiently wait for him until he needed it once more.

Donning a formal Alliance uniform—it was all that he had left, as the rest of his casual clothing was stained with blood or riddled with bullet holes—he quickly rinsed his face in the lavatory, running a hand over the many scars that he had a habit of amassing in record time.

Shepard stood up, walking over to his bed, grabbing the knife that he had picked up earlier from below it, gripping tightly onto the handle as he dropped into a lunge and swung it through the air a few times, testing its balance.

Shepard pounced forwards, leading with his right foot as he stood up, throwing the strength of his legs into the swing of his blade, which would easily give the blade enough heft to push it through a thin suit of recon armor or in between the gaps in a heavier suit of battle armor.

The blade was very well made, as he had observed earlier. It would suffice.

"Joker," Shepard said, putting a finger on the terminal which would allow him to communicate in the cockpit. "Send a message down to Engineering—tell Tali that I'd like to see her in my chambers."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Ashley clenched a fist, swinging it at the wall inside of the armory, her heavy hand making a loud bang and a small dent, attracting the attention of the few crewmembers milling about the area. Not even bothering to match their curious gazes, she continued to stomp around the armory, clenching and unclenching her fists as she recalled the argument she had with the turian.

It was unfair, she thought, that the turian had been receiving the same treatment as anybody else on the ship. After all, he was a turian—one of the creatures that had been murdering scores of humans less than a century ago.

It just wasn't fair—she had spent her whole life training as a soldier, getting exercises drilled into her by cruel and uncaring sergeants, and being forced to leave her family behind, and suddenly, she was on par with a damned cop from the Citadel—it just didn't make any sense.

Ashley would have been a commander or even a captain herself, if it hadn't been for the damned turians. It was always the turians! It was because of the turians that her grandfather had been forced to surrender on Shanxi! It was because of the damned turians that every single officer would give her those damned suspicious looks every time they looked at her damned service record and saw the damned Williams name!

Balling her hands into fists again, she slammed another hand into the wall, putting an identical dent beside the other.

Ashley sighed, closing her eyes as she hung her head loosely, as if she were diffusing her anger into the deformed wall.

Aliens never meant well—you simply couldn't trust them. Any time that Ashley had ever put trust into aliens, they had stabbed her in the back—and it was only because she was surrounded by humans that she was even still alive.

Shepard would see—maybe not today, but soon. If the Council had abandoned Shepard, the rest of the aliens would follow—it was a cycle she had seen far too often. The turian, the quarian, hell, there was even a krogan on board—they were all too uncertain. They were spies, or infiltrators, or assassins, or something—but whatever they were, Ashley was always going to have a bullet at the ready for each of them.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard heard a quiet knock at his door—odd, considering that his door had a buzzer—and he quickly stood up from his bed, straightening out his uniform before he answered.

"Come in!" Shepard shouted. The door slid open in response, Tali standing in the opening, her hands held together in front of her as she slowly stepped in, appearing reluctant to enter. Shepard noticed her eyes flitting back and forth, taking in the chamber—which most people in the ship hadn't seen yet.

"Did you need something?" Tali finally said, breaking the silence.

"I wanted to show you something—from earlier," Shepard said, turning around and heading towards his bed. He picked up the blade, wrapped tightly in its sheath, and turned around, extending his hands out in offer.

Tali looked to both sides, as if she were checking if Shepard was addressing someone else, before she looked back at Shepard, unmoving.

"Take it," Shepard prompted, as Tali stood still, her eyes still flitting around nervously.

Tali reluctantly extended both of her hands, gently grasping onto the blade and pulling it close to herself as Shepard let go of it. She looked down in the knife at her hands, turning it around and observing it, but still appearing uncertain.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a blade," Shepard said with a light smile.

"I—I know that," Tali stammered. "I meant… is this… for me?"

Shepard smiled at her selfless and unassuming nature. "After I saw what happened on the Citadel, I thought that it might be a good idea if you had an extra line of defense—something to fall back on if your shotgun isn't available."

"I—I can't accept this," Tali said, shaking her head as she extended her hands again, trying to hand the weapon back to him. "You've already done so much for me—I mean, you saved my life, you protected me from C-Sec, and… you helped me sleep."

"And now I'm giving you this," Shepard said, pushing the knife back towards her, as he had done with the black box that he had gifted her a few days ago. "Don't consider it a gift—consider it an ordered upgrade," Shepard said, realizing that she likely wasn't going to accept it otherwise. "Your commander has decided that you're not properly equipped. You need a good close quarters back up weapon."

Shepard looked into her eyes for a moment, catching that little glint of innocence that he had become so accustomed to, but also a hint of something else—uncertainty?

_Damn, what was I thinking? _Tali had very much expressed that she was reluctant to take lives—and here Shepard was, handing her another weapon which he had so prominently used to drain the blood from the evil.

"You could fight geth with it," Shepard weakly added, hoping that she wouldn't find his gift too... cruel.

Tali nodded slightly, drawing the weapon close to her. "But I don't even know how to use it," she quietly said, looking down at the blade.

"That's why I'm going to teach you," Shepard said, a small—but very genuine—smile on his face. "The best part about it is that I'm certain that you could easily hook it up to shock geth or something." His words were true—he had seen knives which were wired up with electronic circuitry and a battery which would spark on contact with a conductive surface, whether it was armor or a security mech—and Shepard had no doubt that Tali could manage to improvise the same effect. "It'll give you a few extra seconds if a geth ever closes in."

Tali nodded once more, tilting her said to the side slightly as she observed the blade.

"You can tie the sheath around your hip, or your arm, or your leg—all are good places, as long as you know that you can reach it easily." Tali nodded, nervously bending down to tie the sheath around her left leg—just like Shepard had his.

"When you're running or walking, you can easily take it out by stepping into a lunge," Shepard demonstrated, stepping out far on his right leg and slipping his knife out of its sheath. Tali mimicked his movements, similarly sliding the knife out of the sheath, momentarily observing the way that it caught the light and seemed to glimmer.

Then, if an angry geth is running at you," Shepard said, turning to face Tali. "You want to make sure they can't shoot you first." He slowly put an arm out, swinging it to the side in front of Tali as if she were an enemy soldier. "Once their weapon is out of the way, you bring your blade to the neck, where you can slice through the important connections to the optics." Shepard slowly swung his right hand, harmlessly sliding the knife past Tali's throat.

Shepard stepped back, and without warning, Tali stepped forward, knocking Shepard's arms to the side as she similarly swung the blade past his throat—not quite perfectly executed, but extremely close to what Shepard had done—apparently she learned fast.

"You told me you didn't know how to use a knife," Shepard said with a smile.

"I don't," Tali admitted. "When I was young, I liked watching some of the soldiers sparring—sometimes, they used short sticks—those were always the most fun to watch," she said wistfully.

"How did they spar?" Shepard asked, standing casually.

Tali crouched lower, first turning to the left, before she corrected herself and position herself so that she was turned to the right. With surprising ease, she spun around, swinging her blade—hilt first, in case she accidentally misjudged the distance so that she wouldn't hurt Shepard—and dived low, swinging a leg which would have undercut any opponent she faced. She finished by pouncing forward, pointing the hilt of the blade at Shepard.

"Try that again," Shepard said, his curiosity piqued at the interesting technique. "But this time, try it on me."

Once again, Tali crouched low, twisting to the right, but this time, when she spun around, Shepard let her cut his legs out from underneath him, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forwards as Tali gently poked the hilt of her blade into Shepard's stomach.

"Try again," Shepard said, now that he understood what Tali was trying to do. Perhaps he could show her how the move could be exploited—then she would be prepared to deal with any situation.

For a third time, she prepared her strike again, but this time, Shepard jumped over top of her sweeping leg, and when she pounced forward with her low thrust, he gently grasped onto her arm, pulling her knife harmlessly to his side as he slid his knife up to her throat, holding her arm gently to his side as he stood close enough to Tali to feel the slight warmth radiated from her suit, knife sitting lightly on the thin material under her neck.

It would be such a simple motion, just a subtle flick of his wrist, and her lifeblood would come flowing out of her throat like a gushing waterfall, spraying across the room, over the top of the soft white sheets that adorned his bed, staining them red.

With a simple flick, her soft, accented voice would be permanently silenced under the blood which would fill her mouth, spraying into her mask, splattering it with red.

Just a brief moment, and those eyes, filled to the brim with an indomitable innocence, with the fire of her spirit, they would be doused in such a brief moment as her eyes glazed over with the grey pallor of death, as her body fell lifeless to the floor, the precious warmth escaping.

"I'm sorry," Shepard suddenly whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he released Tali and dropped his knife on the ground, his hands suddenly losing strength as he collapsed onto the bed behind him, leaving Tali standing there, staring at him with concern evident in her face.

"Shepard?" she asked, stepping forward slightly, wrapping her hands around the blade and hilt of the knife.

"I'll show you more later," Shepard said, suddenly so weary and exhausted. "Go," he said with a tired smile on his face.

After a moment, Tali nodded hesitantly, before she bent over and gingerly picked up Shepard's knife, holding the handle out to him. Shepard reached out and gripped it tightly, his hand trembling as he did so, as Tali turned around and stepped out his chambers, but not before giving him one final concerned glance.

As the door slid shut, every muscle in Shepard's body tensed as he flung the knife across the room, slamming into the steel wall on the far side of the room near the lavatory, sinking in to the handle.

It was a curse—Shepard's constant thirst for blood. The blade beckoned to him like a demon, asking him for vengeance from whatever wellspring of life stood nearby.

What if he had given in to his impulses? What if Tali were lying on the floor right at this instant, her blood pooling around her limp, dead body?

Shepard shuddered at the thought—at the image of Tali's lifeless eyes staring back at him.

Was there no escaping the cruel violence that plagued his being? Was he forever doomed to be a slave to vengeance, to anger, to death and decay?

Because nothing else could exist in the company of death.

* * *

Hey, everybody! As always, thanks for reading!

I'm not certain if there's anything specific to say this uploading period, other than I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Reviews are well appreciated, as they help me understand how well my tale is being received and allows me to fix mistakes and avoid making them again in the future.

I'll see you in a few days!


	16. Temptation

**:: Chapter Sixteen :: **Temptation **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Life is a clay urn on the mantle,_

_And I am shattered on the floor._

_Like every hope I've ever had,_

_Like every dream I've ever known,_

_It all washed away in a tide of longing,_

_A longing for a better world._

_We are the wounds and the great cold death_

_Darkness and silence,_

_The light shall flicker out…_

_-Agalloch-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Garrus sat in his seat inside of the cramped shuttle, the heavy krogan taking up two seats opposite him, Ashley sitting somewhat reluctantly beside him, while Tali sat on his opposite side, idly tapping on her omni-tool as they sat in silence, save for the quiet, damped noise of the mass effect core humming as they zipped through space.

They were finally doing it—they were going to take down Doctor Saleon. It felt like a dream to Garrus—finally chasing down and ending the mad man's reign of terror, reclaiming a hope of justice that he had long given up.

Garrus gently wrapped a hand around his pistol, fingering the trigger as he anxiously waited to hear that they were prepared to board the MSV Fedele. He was going to make Saleon pay for every innocent life he harmed.

Shepard climbed out of the co-pilot's seat in the front of the shuttle, leaving Kaidan alone as he piloted the small spacecraft. Shepard sat down in the seat directly beside him, glancing at Garrus briefly.

"So, what did our target do?" Shepard asked.

Garrus paused for a moment, wondering where to begin. "It all started with a simple black market chemicals shipment."

How such an innocuous crime had transformed into the cruel and brutal manhunt was still a mystery to Garrus—things had escalated so quickly that he hadn't been prepared when the doctor had finally revealed himself in all of his insane glory.

"We tracked the chemical shipments to a research facility, and we captured the three employees working there—but none of them claimed to be the owner of the building." Garrus paused for a moment, recalling the gruesome memories. "We were interrogating one of the suspects, when suddenly, right in the middle of the interrogation room, he just started screaming, and he wouldn't stop screaming…" An involuntary shudder ran through Garrus' spine. "He started bleeding uncontrollably, until he passed out and we took him to the hospital."

"What happened?" Shepard asked, looking into Garrus' eyes.

"He had incisions all over his stomach and chest, which had opened up while we were interrogating him. The doctors told me that he had three livers, four kidneys, and two hearts… the god damned doctor was growing organs inside of his patients."

With a deep breath, Garrus continued. "We devoted our resources to tracking Doctor Saleon down—and after we tracked the origins of a black market liver, we found his hellhouse—a run-down building in the poorest part of one of the wards, where he would give people small sums of money if they let him operate on them."

"And you tried to catch him?"

"We tried," Garrus said with a bitter laugh. "And we failed. We went to his lab, but we couldn't find a single damn thing—no organs, no patients, and no doctor. Until we opened up his closet."

Garrus closed his eyes, clenching his jaw tightly at the rising anger at the memory. "He had rigged explosives in the entire lab—and had left the trigger attached to the door, where he had left the dead bodies of his victims."

"I had stepped out the back door to make sure that he couldn't escape if he was hiding, when the entire building suddenly just… just exploded." Garrus shook his head sadly. "The other six officers that were with me all died in the explosion—I was the only one who survived. Garrus ran a hand over the ropy scar that ran underneath his neck—the only living reminder of Doctor Saleon's madness.

"And you never found Saleon again?"

"We found him," Garrus said. "We knew his name, his identity, his business—we could have found out what vids he watched if we wanted to." Garrus shook his head again, this time angrily. "His ship was leaving when we discovered who it belonged to—but he had already lifted off by the time we sent a ground dispatch. We tried to get the Citadel Fleet to take down the ship, but… they refused. They said that there were civilians on board, and they couldn't kill them, no matter the fact that a raving lunatic was driving."

There was a short moment of silence. "They should have stopped him then," Shepard said, frowning. "Those civilians would have been doomed either way—and they had the chance to stop a murderer."

Garrus nodded, looking down at the pistol in his hands. "Now I'm going to fix that."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped through the docking port that extended from their shuttle, hovering beside Doctor Saleon's ship, silently gesturing to his squadmates to follow. Kaidan gave Shepard a salute, staying behind so that he could provide pickup when they needed to get out, and making sure that nobody else could capture the shuttle, blocking their only method of escape. As Wrex slowly stepped out, the last of his companions, the door slid shut, sealing them inside the vessel.

The ship was strange, nothing like any of the Alliance ships that Shepard had been on. The floors were made of interlacing metal bars floating above the rounded out frame of the ship below, where the dim lights were stuck into the metal shell. Despite the lights, the entire craft felt dark and ominous, as if it were holding its breath, waiting to strike.

Shepard stepped forward, deeper into the dark craft as his team gathered around him, readying their weapons as Shepard stepped forward to the metal door which blocked their passage. Shepard quickly pulled out his omni-tool, planning on hacking the door as usual, using a simple snippet of code which he had generally worked for him in the past.

Shepard was going to make Saleon suffer—if not for his own vengeance, for Garrus'. His blade needed blood, and what better blood to drink upon that that of a murderer?

Shepard tapped on his omni-tool a few times, about to unlock the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking to his right, Tali was standing there, softly shaking her head. She looked down at her own omni-tool, similarly tapping on it as Shepard looked at her, waiting for some kind of answer.

"Yes?" Shepard finally said, uncertain of what Tali was doing. With a silent glance—and a smile which Shepard knew was hiding underneath that mask—the door slid open soundlessly.

"System wide alarms were hooked up to the door," Tali quietly explained, not wanting to be too loud despite the fact they were using in-helmet communicators. "If you had used your program, it would have tripped the sensors."

Shepard's eyes widened slightly at how Tali had known exactly what kind of securities the ship had, as well as how Shepard had planned on overcoming them. Tali had not ceased to amaze Shepard yet—how the young girl who had only just left her family could fire a shotgun as well as most trained soldiers, knew geth inside and out, and treated power balances as "simple work" was beyond him. Silently thanking Tali with a nod, their squad continued down the metal hallway without a sound beyond the slight noise of their footsteps.

"Do you recognize the layout?" Shepard asked to Garrus.

"No," Garrus said, shaking his head. "I've never seen a ship like this before."

"It's a stripped down batarian ship," Wrex said, making an obvious attempt at being quiet but his voice still sounding loud compared to everyone else. "I saw a couple of these back when I picked up odd jobs."

Another door was at the end of the long hallway, which Shepard allowed Tali to open, trusting that she was more capable than he was when dealing with alarm systems and other electronics. She didn't disappoint him, as the door silently slid open just like the previous one had, revealing a square room which was lined with waist-high tables all around the edges, and had a few cabinets shoved in the middle. Across the tables were a variety of medical equipment—a few that Shepard recognized from Doctor Chakwas' office, like the medical scanner that she used as well as a ultrasonic generator which she could use to dissolve medigel, but there were also a variety of cruel looking tools that he had never seen before. Long scalpels, looking more akin to combat knives than standard medical scalpels, adorned the walls in many places, sitting next to vials filled with a red liquid that Shepard knew with certainty to be human blood. Other than in the jars, there was not a speck of blood—or even dirt or dust—anywhere else in the entire room. It was as if he had specifically cleaned out this room, expecting visitors.

"This doesn't feel right," Garrus said, nervously looking from side to side, his words mirroring Shepard's thoughts.

Shepard nodded once. "Tali, see if you can get that door open," he said, gesturing to one of the two doors at the opposite side of the room. With a nod, she quickly made her way to the door, tapping on her omni-tool.

"Is there anything here that can help us, or give us any hints?" Shepard asked to Garrus, as he walked around the tables, occasionally picking up some tool or an unlabeled jar filled with a black colored syrup.

"Chlorophyllin Agent X," Garrus said almost breathlessly, pulling out a heavy jar which was filled with a green liquid tinged with lines of blue.

"Chrlorophyllin Agent X?" Shepard said, uncertain of what it meant.

"It's just like last time," Garrus said hurriedly, speaking quickly. "He was using it to stimulate organ growth inside of patients."

"Then it looks like we know what he's up to," Shepard replied, firmly gripping onto the handle of his shotgun.

"Shepard," Tali said, turning around. "The door's physically barred—I can't get it open."

"What about the other door? Is it locked too?"

"I'll try," was her reply as she tried the same techniques on the other door.

After a moment, the door slid open without delay, revealing a room filled with darkness that the dim lights wouldn't penetrate. Shepard stared down the long room, trying to make out any details that he could.

Why would this door be unlocked? Was he being herded, like a dumb animal?

Shepard stepped into the room, moving slowly as he pointed his shotgun inside of the room. Quickly hitting a button on the side of the gun, a light came to life, the narrow beam illuminating a path along the walls. As Shepard swung the beam across the room, he heard a gasp from behind him as Tali gripped her shotgun more tightly, and as Garrus cursed upon the sight.

The entire back wall was coated in blood—blood that had been splattered as if it were paint. Along the floor were the dead bodies of numerous humans, the blood still dripping from their bodies—fresh kills. As Shepard slowly ran his light across the horrific scene, he caught a glimmer of movement as one of the men rolled over, his eyes glinting slightly in the light.

A horrible noise filled Shepard's ears, the man trying to scream through muffled lips. As he turned to face Shepard, his lips, sewn together with metal fibers, curled in a horrified expression as his eyes spread wide, absolute terror evident.

The man continued to scream though his sealed lips, the cruel sounds grating across Shepard's ears as he tightly held onto the trigger of his shotgun, prepared to kill the man if he tried to attack.

Shepard took another step forward, and the man backed up against the wall, spreading his arms wide as he gestured at them to run away, flailing his arms in an attempt to try and make them leave, all while he yelled that harsh, screeching howl.

The man's eyes widened even further for a moment as his screams reached a crescendo, before his eyes suddenly glossed over, his knees bending as he fell over as he crumpled into a heap onto the ground, beeping silently.

"Shepard!" Tali shouted, realizing that she was already too late. "Proximity—"

Before anybody could react, the bent body of the man suddenly splattered in every direction, the explosives planted in his chest rending his bones to dust. The ghastly moment seemed to cause time to stop for a moment, allowing Shepard to see every detail of the man's horrific demise. His limbs came apart from his torso, his flesh rending into small chunks all coated with dark red blood, as his companions were spattered with the man's remains.

Shepard stared straight ahead, not even noticing when Tali fell to her knees behind him, grasping her head as she tried to block out the gruesome scene.

Disgust welled up in Shepard's stomach as he examined the hellish sight before him.

It was like they were being taunted—why would he leave a single surviving man with a proximity mine inside of his chest? Saleon was leading them somewhere—but where?

Shepard turned around, stepping out of the room as he noticed Tali kneeling on the ground, awfully still. Suddenly, every doubt came fleeting back to Shepard's mind as he remembered her reservations about having to kill the mercenaries back on Therum—a sight like this, seeing an innocent man, screaming for his life, dismembered in front of her… It would hurt her forever.

_Damnit._ Another mistake to add to his unbearable list.

Shepard felt the urge to reach out and comfort her, to wipe the blood off of her mask, but he stayed his hand, dismissing the thoughts with a shake of his head. Instead, Garrus did as he had wanted to, gently wrapping an arm around Tali's shoulders and lifting her up off the ground, procuring a grey handkerchief from somewhere inside of his armor and gently wiping down her mask as he herded Tali, who was merely staring straight ahead, out of the room and into the adjoining lab.

Shepard shook the regret out of his head, following them out of the room as Wrex and Ashley came behind, each carrying a stoic expression while Wrex was silently wiping the blood from his armor.

In the commotion, nobody had even noticed that the door to the next hallway, which Tali had claimed was physically barred, had slid open, revealing another long passageway with a door on the side halfway through, and another at the far end.

"The door's open!" Shepard suddenly said, shaking everybody from their silent trances.

"Make this bastard pay," Garrus said, steadying Tali as he grabbed his rifle again, tightening his grip on the handle, the sorrow and disgust in his eyes being replaced with rage—just as Shepard was replacing his regret with bone-chilling hate.

They stepped through the next hallway, as Tali was slowly coming back to her senses, still with a blank, horrified expression, but she followed them nevertheless, slowly stepping into the hallway behind Wrex.

"Welcome to the MSV Fedele," a creaking, old sounding voice came from everywhere at once.

Garrus suddenly spun around, his long rifle at the ready. "It's Saleon!" he shouted, instantly recognizing the voice.

"I hope you've been enjoying your stay," the voice said in feigned compassion. "As well as the gifts that I've left for you!"

Shepard looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Garrus, it's good to see you again," the voice said in a mocking tone. "Did C-Sec finally kick you out after all your failures, or did you just get up and leave because you weren't good enough?"

Garrus stood still, the anger obvious in his eyes despite his calm demeanor and the way that he clenched tightly onto his rifle.

"I sure hope that your new friends know that you _murdered_ that child back on the Citadel, two years ago!"

"I didn't kill her!" Garrus shouted, looking at Shepard with pleading eyes. "I tried to stop it!"

"You can tell yourself that," the voice admonished, "But you know that it was because you weren't good enough that she had to die."

Tali unexpectedly put a hand on Garrus' shoulder, seemingly finally awake from her stunned trance, the glossy and dazed look gone from her eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Garrus," Tali calmly said, no remnant of her previous terror evident in her voice. "There wasn't anything you could have done better."

As Tali put a hand on Garrus' shoulders, he lowered his shoulders and his rifle, visibly calming.

"Don't let him get to you," Shepard said, already seeing how this doctor was merely toying with them. It was all part of his plan—he would get them riled up, discouraged and disgusted with each other, he would make them all fight like beasts, tearing at each other's throats—and then, afterwards, he would come in and clean up the mess.

"Ah, John Shepard," the voice said. "What a strange turn of events to find the once-great Hero of Elysium here, cleaning up criminal scum!"

Shepard smiled slightly, seeing right through the attempt to goad him. He wasn't going to let this murderer get the best of him!

"What an interesting team you've built up—what, was the last one not good enough for you?"

Shepard's triumphant smile suddenly vanished off his face.

"Why, don't be like that—we both know that you so obviously sacrificed them back on Akuze so that you wouldn't need to deal with them any longer!"

Shepard's fists involuntarily clenched at his sides. With a deep breath, he unfurled them, refusing to let himself be taunted by this fool. His accusations were false—they were meaningless, and Shepard could only hope that his companions would see through it as well.

"You betrayed them, Shepard! You left them to rot!"

Andrew's hissing, grating voice suddenly filled his ears—"You betrayed us!"

The ghoulish images of Shepard's old friends—those brave soldiers that he had left behind—flashed before his eyes, those damned, judging, accusing eyes, staring straight through him.

"No!" Shepard shouted, snapping away from the horrible memories. He wasn't going to lose control, like he had when Bartok had tried to goad him—as soon as he lost control, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself from hurting anybody around him.

"I hope your new friends know that you murdered your last companions!" Saleon said with a wicked squeal as he laughed cruelly. Shepard gripped his knife in his hands—it had seemingly just appeared there—trying to dissipate his anger into the hard handle of the blade.

"It wasn't my fault," Shepard whispered under his breath.

"But it was!" Boyd shouted, grasping onto Shepard's dagger as he wrenched it from his grip and slammed the blade into his heart, slicing his chest wide open. "Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

Shepard slammed his fist into the apparitions before him, trying to push the horrible accusations from his mind. He felt his blade slicing against metal for a brief moment before sinking in, warmth flowing past his hand as he twisted his dagger, trying to dispel the guilt from his mind.

"Shepard!" a voice suddenly shouted, with a clarity that shattered the visions in Shepard's mind. He looked to the side, feral and angry, and caught sight of where the voice had come from—those pure, innocent eyes that had both brought him the blessing of compassion and the haunting of dread, eyes tinged with terror as Shepard realized he was holding his blade up in the air, facing towards her, his hands shaking with rage.

The blood drained from Shepard's face as he realized how close he had once again come to stealing the life from those beautiful eyes, with the horrible blade in his hands. He had sunken his blade deep into the metal wall, slicing a long gash nearly four feet long, warm air blowing out of the twisted metal. What if it hadn't been a wall in front of him? What if it had been Garrus, or Ashley… or Tali?

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard?" Tali said, tentatively stepping a little bit closer to Shepard. He still held that wicked knife in his hands, but he had lowered it and held it by his hip, though she could still tell that he gripped it tightly.

But his eyes had faded from that cruel black that she had only witnessed once before—back on Therum, where he had so easily slain all of those men, when he had struck her with the most hateful, most vengeful glare she had ever seen—and now they were paling into a faint green-brown color.

"Shepard?" she said again, taking another step towards him. She was only a few meters away now—close enough that if he pounced on her, she would be powerless to stop the strong man.

Shepard looked at Tali with a distant stare, as if he were looking at something behind her, before he trembled for a moment and then spun around without warning, throwing his blade into the sheath at his leg as he marched out of the hallway without a word.

Shepard had _killed_ his old crew? He had betrayed them? Left them to die? He hadn't even denied the accusations—were they true?

They couldn't be true… could they?

"And I almost forgot about you, my dear miss Zorah," the evil voice said over the intercom again.

Where was the signal coming from? She couldn't even find any trace of it!

"I hope you've enjoyed the show that I've put on so far," the voice continued to mock. "I know how much you enjoy reliving your childhood memories!"

How did he know? Only a few people on the Fleet had known! Nobody else should have known about that!

Tali pushed the images that were starting to resurface on her mind away—those brutal images of dying quarians, blood splattered all across the engine room—there was no place for those here! She had to focus—find a way to stop the broadcasting. Where was it even coming from?

Tali desperately tapped on her omni-tool, trying to put an end to the horrible words that continued to spout from some speaker.

"What did your Father say when he saw you coming back, covered in blood? Remember? When he barely noticed that anything was wrong? When he punished you when your mother pointed it out?"

Those words struck far too close to truth to be ignored.

The only thing that her father had said to her was "I can't believe you disobeyed me again," not a single word of consolation, no embraces, not even a compassionate glance. It was as if… as if she had been a nuisance.

"Oh, and your lovely mother… do you know what she said before she died? Do you want to guess what words were on her lips as she died, foaming at the mouth from her horrible illness?"

With a shout, Tali launched a centralized electromagnetic pulse from her omni-tool—a desperate, but necessary measure. The horrible cackling from the intercom suddenly quieted as the lights similarly went blank, shutting Tali off in the darkness as his words ran through his mind.

How could he have known?

How?

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stopped in the lab as the lights suddenly flickered off and died, plunging him into darkness. But it didn't matter—he was going to find that god-forsaken scientist, and slice him open, letting his blood drip away one drop at a time until he finally died.

"Shepard!" Garrus shouted after him, stepping out of the hallway and fumbling through the room where he nearly bumped into Shepard, standing like a statue in the dark.

The lights slowly began to come back to life, gently humming as the room began to fill with the same bluish-grey luminance from the floor lights, revealing Garrus' concerned expression.

"Shepard, we need to keep going—Saleon won't be far away," Garrus said sternly.

"Oh god," Ashley said over through the communicators. "Shepard, you're going to want to see this."

Turning around and heading back down the hallway, Shepard saw that the door to the side had opened up, and Ashley and Tali had already stepped inside, leaving Wrex standing outside with an indifferent expression on his face. Turning around the corner, Shepard stepped in to witness the awful treat that had been left behind for them.

Seven humans, five men and two women, all sat naked in the middle of the square room, spotlights hanging from the ceiling each pointing at the spectacle in the center of the room. They were all tied together with cruel looking barbed wire, which poked and cut through the skin of the prisoners, small streams of blood pouring down from their arms, legs and torsos, to drip and pool on the floor below the metal grate that they sat on. Their eyes were all closed as their heads lolled to the side. Just like the last man, these people had all had their mouths sewn shut with cruel metal wire.

But the most disturbing thing wasn't the hostages all tied in a bunch—it was the seventy pound explosive package hanging from the ceiling. Enough ordinance to blow the entire ship if it was set off.

"They're still alive!" Garrus shouted, leaning in towards one of the men, who was unconscious but still alive.

"What about the bomb?" Shepard said, turning to Tali, who was standing against the wall silently, holding her head in her hands, as if she hadn't even noticed the contents of the room.

"Tali?" Shepard asked, stepping towards her with a concerned look on his face. When she didn't respond, a thousand doubts rang true in Shepard's mind—had she finally snapped? Seeing Shepard turning into a feral creature, seeing a man dismembered in front of her, seeing these people brutally abused and tortured… where were the limits of Tali's sanity, and why, why in the hell was Shepard pushing them?

"Tali," Shepard said, putting a hand on her shoulder, prepared to tell her to call Kaidan in his shuttle and leave. As soon as Shepard rested his hand on her, she spun around, whipping her shotgun off of her back and holding it steadily in her hands as she pointed it at Shepard, a look of terror in her eyes.

"Tali?" Shepard said, stepping backwards—not out of fear but out of concern. Shepard's guilt and terror were suddenly whisked from his mind as he watched Tali in front of him, staring at Shepard with horror-filled eyes.

"I'm sorry," Tali quietly said, lowering her shotgun and returning to a semi-normal state, looking drained but with the terror gone from her eyes. She stepped forward, leaning down to examine one of the hostages without another word, despite the looks of concern that both Shepard and Garrus were giving her.

"The bomb will detonate in eleven minutes," Tali said in a calm monotone that made Shepard re-run her words through his head.

"The bomb's going to blow?" Shepard said, urgency suddenly very present in his voice and actions.

"Ten minutes, forty eight seconds," Tali confirmed, urgency starting to make its way into her voice as well. "I'll do my best to stop it!"

"Garrus, Wrex and I will go after Saleon," Shepard said, turning and heading out the door. "Ashley, you stay behind with Tali and make sure that nothing hurts her!"

With a final glance back at Tali, who was picking up speed as she tapped on her omni-tool and seemed to be falling out of her stunned state, he ran down the hallway to the next sealed door, not wanting to put a voice to his doubts.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali tapped furiously on her omni-tool, constantly glancing back up at the tantalizing timer—ticking down indignantly. Ten minutes—ten minutes was all she had to stop this entire place from going to ruin.

Doubts kept trying to worm their way into Tali's mind—doubts about Shepard, about this mission, about herself—a whole torrent of worries had suddenly flown into her mind as soon as she had heard that taunting voice. Every word that he had said was so true—so damned true—and it stung and stunned her to hear them.

Keelah, what was wrong with this whole ship? Nothing seemed to work—all of her programs were blocked and purged as soon as she initiated them, her system scanning probes wouldn't pull back any relevant information, and no matter what she tried to do, the timer just kept ticking down.

Without a glance at the horrible looking hostages, who Tali had realized were hooked into a circuit which would likely instantaneously trigger the bomb as soon as they were removed from their perch, she tried every single method that she knew—flooding the systems with garbage data, hiding trojans inside of standard runtimes, and even brute-forcing the infiltration systems—but nothing would work. It was all futile.

When that engine core had blown, twelve quarians had been in the blast radius—so close to the explosion that their suits had been torn to shreds, their limbs had been flung away from their bodies, their skin burned and fried by the heat from the explosion. When she ran in to see what the sound had been, and when the young, innocent girl that she had been saw the cooked blood against all the walls, the limbs that littered the floor, the screams of the dying, she had frozen in place, she couldn't tear her eyes from the terrible sight.

Damnit! Now was not the time for those thoughts! She had to stop this bomb somehow! There had to be a way—there was always a way! But there was so little time… there was nothing she could do in such a short amount of time.

But she had to find something—she wasn't Tali'Zorah nar Rayya for nothing.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Wrex! Garrus! On me!" Shepard shouted, slamming his way through the metal door after his pitiful attempt at hacking it failed. The metal door crumpled beneath his fury, caving inwards as he stormed in, an angry turian and a dangerous krogan following closely behind.

As they rounded a corner, a trio of mercenaries, armed with cruel looking assault rifles spray painted black and red, each turned their attention to the oncoming band, but barely stood a chance before a shotgun blast from Shepard took out one of the men below the knee, causing him to fall to the ground. A loud crack filled the hallway as Garrus' sniper rifle punched a hole straight through another of the mercenaries' heads, and a final shotgun blast from Wrex finished the job, none of them having stopped running to even bother dealing with their aggressors.

They were an unstoppable force working together in succession—fueled by Shepard's rage, propelled by Garrus' fury, and held strong by Wrex's unwavering steadfastness. As another group of mercenaries stood in their way, two instantly found bullet holes in their chest and head, while the next two found their throats missing as Shepard's blade slid past their unprotected necks.

Shepard continued on, barely noticing the sweet blood dripping from his hands, down his arms and across his chestplate. All he could feel was the growing rage that sat inside of him, waiting for the moment when it could pounce and strike out, stealing the tongue from the horrible doctor.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

They had almost finally made it—Saleon was finally within Garrus' grasp. It had taken years, but there was nowhere for him to escape this time—no civilians to hide behind, no Council to protect him. The terrible things that he had put on display before him had done nothing but spur his rage further, solidifying his belief that the cruel doctor had to die—and he had to die now.

Shepard led their squad with a fervor that he hadn't seen from the man, his techniques even beyond that what he had seen on Therum. His hands were a blur as he slipped his dagger through the heavily armored mercenaries that continually poured into the chambers before them, slicing through them as if they hadn't even been armored. With smooth, well-practiced motions, Shepard used his left elbow to push a man's shotgun out to the side, the bullets flying wide and missing their intended target. With the same arm, Shepard grasped onto the man's wrist, twisting roughly to the left, and dragging the man with him as he simultaneously ran the blade across his chest, the cacophonous screech of metal slicing across metal before the plating finally gave way and the blade sunk deep into soft flesh.

Shepard was the hero that Garrus had never seen before—he had battle skills beyond that of any he had ever seen before, he had a calm steadiness in battle that was only betrayed by the fires of rage that burned in his dark brown eyes, and he had been everything that Garrus had dreamed of being in C-Sec—not prohibited by petty laws, prepared to take down those who caused torment and suffering despite the costs that the act may have incurred.

Because Shepard _understood._ He wasn't worried about silly politics or legal blowback—he existed for the sole purpose of making bad people suffer for their crimes. With Shepard leading him, he could finally make a difference.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Ashley Williams," the same voice said through the communicator inside of her helmet. "Why are you in these desolate parts of the galaxy?"

Ashley quickly looked around the room, but Tali hadn't moved from her spot where she stood tapping furiously on her omni-tool. Apparently she hadn't heard the voice.

"Why do you fight for these aliens, Ashley? Why do you work with a turian—one of the dreaded ones who dishonored your grandfather?"

Ashley gripped tightly onto her rifle upon mention of her grandfather, but she didn't say a word, not wanting to spur on the doctor any further. She had seen what he had said about the turian and about Shepard—she had seen Shepard's burning rage materializing in the long gash he had left back in the hallway.

"They're the ones that are to blame—what are you, a Gunnery Chief? Why aren't you a Commander, or a Captain? Oh, that's right—it was the aliens that did that to you, too."

A seething rage began to build up as the words ran through Ashley's brain—words that perfectly described the immeasurable feelings of betrayal and anger she had felt in the past few days.

"But you can turn them all away—you can stand strong, without their help—without weakling aliens to stand by your side. I know your deepest desires, Ashley Williams—I know you desire to be Commander above all else. You envy Shepard, you detest him because he won't even consider you for a promotion."

"And it's all because of the turians."

Ashley gritted her teeth together, the fury building up underneath her tinted helmet. It was true—every word that he said. She was always being held back, never able to step forward simply because her family name was Williams. The damned luck of the draw.

"Cast them all aside, and I will make you the Commander of the Normandy. I know so many things, Ashley—and with that knowledge, I can make you powerful. It all starts with a simple step in the right direction—see the quarian in front of you? The dirty, filthy thief? All you must do is kill her—nobody will suspect a thing."

Ashley recoiled suddenly, conscious of the way she was beginning to point her rifle at the defenseless quarian in front of her. He was trying to trick her with her own desires—and how he had discovered those desires was a mystery. But the offer was undeniably alluring.

"It all begins with her demise," the voice continued. "I will dispose of Commander Shepard, the disagreeable turian, and even the krogan," the voice said with an evil sounding edge. "The line of succession will be broken—and with my help, I can make it appear as if even Shepard admired you from the day he first sighted you in battle, and wanted you as the sole heir to the Normandy."

But how could he do such a thing? Kaidan was the rightful heir to the Normandy—and that was if Anderson didn't reclaim authority first.

"You underestimate my influence," the voice said again, seemingly reading her mind. "I have the galaxy at my disposal—I have access to every Alliance record you could imagine. Changing them is a simple matter—I could tear an admiral from his perch or bring a beggar to power."

"Now, step forward, _Commander Williams,_" the voice said. "Begin your rise to greatness with one simple bullet."

Ashley took a deep breath, steadying herself. They were lies—they were all lies. They had to be—there was no way that anybody could make such grand promises.

The tantalizing glory and greatness stood before her on one hand, a way for her to finally escape the dreadful shadow of her grandfather's defeat, to finally take revenge on these aliens for what they did to her family. If Saleon could really do as he claimed… the Williams name could finally be redeemed. Her sisters wouldn't be known as weaklings—they would finally be able to speak their own name in pride, knowing that their sister was a Commander.

She pointed her rifle, aiming down the sights at the back of her hooded head—a simple, clean kill.

Ashley closed her eyes as she tightened her fingers around the trigger.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I'm uploading this chapter a day early since I have too much of a buffer (currently writing Chapter 20). Buffers are nice and all, as it gives me leniency in my writing, but I don't want to get too far ahead of my uploading.

Reviews are appreciated as always-any problems with the story, grammar, or anything else? Let me know!

As always, thanks for the support from all of you that have been giving me feedback (Particularly you, Azzorath ;) ), it's very helpful as it gives me a new perspective to look at the story from, and sometimes, as the author, I'm oblivious to some of the failures that pop up throughout my writing.

See you again soon!

PS: I'm editing all the previous chapters (fairly slowly) to add titles and various snippets of poetry/song. I'll try to do that for every chapter from now on.


	17. Murder

**:: Chapter Seventeen :: **Murder **::**

§―≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡―§

_Through her silvery body,_

_Grazing scars,_

_Her skin enchants me._

_Towards the doom of spring,_

_So I find her,_

_In this milk-white light._

_In this silver frosted night,_

_I place you in coffin moonlight._

_-Swallow the Sun-_

§―≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡―§

Doctor Saleon sat in a large, upholstered chair in the middle of his spic and span office, leaning back comfortably as he idly tapped a curved finger on the armrests. Certainly even the great Commander Shepard should have arrived much faster than this—especially after taunting him with the information that he had paid for.  
If Shepard didn't show up in the next minute, he was going to have a very angry call with the Shadow Broker—he had claimed that it would have riled Shepard up in a moment, perhaps even turned him berserk against his companions. That would have been a beautiful sight—seeing the grim man slicing through the quarian, maybe—but that hadn't turned out quite as he had planned. The quarian had even disabled the cameras! But that was only a minor setback, at least. It wasn't very difficult to get them back up and running.

Hopefully the bomb would get them running a bit faster—though perhaps if they couldn't make it in time, a bomb wouldn't be a terrible way to go. Though a bullet through the head or in Shepard's case, a knife through the throat—those would each be ideal. A grand, romantic fight to the death!

Glancing over at a button to the side of his office, he considered engaging the toxic gas canisters that were built in throughout the ship. Shepard was still messing around with the mercenaries that he had bought from some half-priced band when he had landed down a few days ago—but they wouldn't last much longer. He could tell when he first saw them that they were incompetent fools—but he really hadn't needed them at all. Just something to spend the money on—there wasn't going to be a chance for him to make another deposit in Iroliseth's account before something finally caught up to him one way another—whether it was his age, some backroom assassination, or some self-righteous law enforcement official finally putting him out of his misery—as what it seemed to be today.

Maybe there was a chance to get the Shadow Broker to deposit his refund into Iroliseth's savings account—he would just have to send a message before Shepard made it here.

Bah, screw it. As if the Shadow Broker were actually going to give him a refund! What a preposterous notion!

Why waste his last moments fussing over little details like those? They weren't important—Iroliseth would be fine with the credits that he had spent the last three years wiring into his account—enough to pay for education, security, luxuries—enough to live a life that didn't rely on black market trades to eat. Yes, he would have a good life.

And Saleon would enjoy his last moments, looking through the cameras at the maze of emotions and distrust that he was sowing throughout these confused soldiers. The way that the quarian had doubled over as soon as she had seen his hostage blown to bits—it was exactly as the Shadow Broker had claimed she would react. And the turian's rage? All too enjoyable. If only he could have gotten a bit more from Shepard—the Shadow Broker told him that he had stabbed a man eleven times for saying the things that he had said to him earlier, but all he had managed to goad from him was a long gash in one of his hallways.

The krogan was a surprise—the Shadow Broker hadn't mentioned anything about him. That didn't matter though—the bomb would take him just as easily as the rest. There was some hope with Ashley, though. The Shadow Broker had specifically emphasized her discontent—the perfect candidate for an inside betrayal. If she could get her to take down the quarian…

That would be fun to watch. Yes, very fun.

Saleon considered engaging the toxic gas canisters once more, seeing that Shepard, Garrus, and the krogan were steadily advancing, approaching ever closer to his office. It wouldn't take too long—his ship wasn't very difficult to navigate, and it was basically just a long hallway leading up to his private chambers—where he was now.

But that wouldn't be fun. Where is the fun in watching your nemesis coughing his lungs out, dying on the floor? The real joy came from spilling the blood with your own hand, seeing the sticky liquid for yourself instead of through a video camera.

Maybe he could put up the glass barrier in front of his office—then he could watch as his opponents helplessly fired at and attacked the twelve-inch thick glass without the slightest chance of smashing through it. Fighting to the very last moment—seeing their helpless expressions, realizing that they too would be engulfed in the heat and fires of the blast, along with the doctor who they so despise.

Yes, along with that despicable doctor.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Ashley?" Kaidan said through her communicator, suddenly shaking her from her trance. She lowered her rifle, hands shaking as she looked at Tali—still breathing, still alive, as if nothing had even happened. Still tapping on her omni-tool, still desperately trying to disarm the bomb.

"Ashley, what's going on?" Kaidan said again. "I just got some big vitals spikes on you. Did something happen?"

"No, nothing," she quietly responded, licking her dry lips as she stared at Tali's vulnerable back.

What the hell had she been thinking?

She had been so close to pulling the trigger, to ending the poor quarian's life—and all because some doctor, _a criminal,_had told her that she could become better than what she was.

Betrayal wasn't going to help her—it would have only been a matter of time until people started asking about what happened to Shepard, about what happened to everybody else on the team. Why was Ashley the only one who survived? Kaidan would have known if something had gone wrong—he would have seen her vitals spike as she killed Tali, he would have known that she was the one behind the attack.

She wasn't going to bring honor to the William's name by betraying her squad—even if they were aliens.

Ashley locked her assault rifle in place at her side, staring in silence at the way Tali's hands expertly moved above her omni-tool.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"He must be behind that door!" Garrus shouted as he swing his rifle at a man who ran towards them, knocking him onto the ground as Wrex finished him off with a quick blast of his shotgun. Shepard continued running ahead, giving no notification that he had heard anything. Shepard quickly finished off the remaining two men, slicing at one with his knife and hitting the other square in the chest with a round from his shotgun, the room going silent other than the slight humming of electronics.

"Then let's kill him," Shepard said coldly, calmly walking towards the door at the end of the hallway. The door slid open as Shepard tapped on his omni-tool once, revealing the sight that Garrus had craved for all those years since Saleon had escaped.

The cruel salarian sat leaning back in a leather chair, a lopsided smile on his elongated face, which was colored black with red stripes on it. There was no pity, remorse, surprise—or really any emotion—in his dark black eyes tinged with strips of hazel, other than perhaps a little bit of smug satisfaction.

Shepard stepped forward through the door, stopping a few meters in front of where the salarian sat, keeping his eyes locked with the doctor. With a single swift movement, he swung his shotgun from his side and fired it at the man—the bullets harmlessly skidding away from the glass wall that was in front of Shepard, leaving a few trace scratches on the invisible wall.

The doctor stood up from his chair, a wide grin on his face as he began laughing, stepping forward to the glass wall with his hands behind his back.

"The great Shepard, stuck behind a wall!" Saleon said with a laugh. "Is that the excuse you used on Akuze, too?"

Shepard provided no response other than to continue glaring at Saleon.

"Tell me about Akuze, Shepard," Saleon said, pacing around the room. "How many people did you leave to die, exactly? Was it seven or eight?"

With a cruel smile, Saleon said "Oh right, it was seven. I almost forgot."

Maybe Garrus' rifle could punch through the glass—the energy held by the singular bullet was much higher than what was spread out amongst each pellet from Shepard's shotgun. Garrus lifted his rifle, sighting in on the salarian's head in a moment.

With a resounding crack, a small dent appeared in the glass, barely half an inch deep. Saleon hardly even reacted to the damage, instead turning his attention.

"Garrus, it's so good to see you in person after all these years. I mean, last time you came after me, I had to leave that bomb for you—but too bad you couldn't witness it with your own eyes."

"Damnit," Garrus muttered under his breath. How were they going to get through the glass? Was there any way to go around? Some kind of control panel or something nearby? There had to be a way…"

"Shepard!" Tali's voice rang out through Garrus' communicator. "The bomb's going to blow in…"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"...Two minutes!"

Tali put down her omni-tool, looking up at the bomb hanging precariously from the ceiling. Nothing she had tried worked—there was no way she was going to be able to stop it from detonating in time.

She had failed.

"Get to the docking bay—we'll meet you there," Garrus' voice came back—though she had expected to hear Shepard on the other end.

But they couldn't leave these civilians tied up like this—if the bomb went off, their lives would be unquestionably gone. This entire ship would be unquestionably gone. But there was no way to safely remove them until she disabled the bomb.

Tali bit her lip helplessly, turning around and looking at Ashley, who merely stared at her curiously. Shaking her head, Tali ran out the door, all the while still tapping on her omni-tool, hoping that something would work, that perhaps some program that her father had given her would have an effect on the strange programming that this entire ship was filled with.

Running back down the hallways that they had come from—and putting a hand to the side of her face so she wouldn't be tempted to look down into the room filled with splattered blood and human remains—she ran to the docking bay where Kaidan had dropped them off, and had claimed he would pick them up at. As she stepped into the room, the airlock at the far end slid open and Kaidan stepped out, wearing his full suit of heavy combat armor, gesturing rapidly to Tali and Ashley to get into the shuttle.

"Where's Shepard?" Kaidan asked as Ashley and Tali stepped into the shuttle.

"They went to look for the doctor," Tali said, looking back down the hallway. "There's a bomb inside that's going to blow in a minute and a half—they told us to leave!"

Or at least Garrus had told her to leave.

Oh, keelah, Shepard didn't plan on… they didn't plan on…

They couldn't stay behind. No—those two had been some of the only things in Tali's life that had made it bearable in the past few weeks. Garrus' calm friendship, a hand when she needed it, and Shepard's protection and even companionship, his generosity and even a little bit of his hidden kindness…

What would she do if they both were suddenly gone?

Her torments were put to rest, however, as she saw Shepard and Garrus rounding the corner in front of the krogan, all covered in blood, but certainly alive.

"Get in!" Tali found herself shouting at them, desperately looking at the timer on his omni-tool. A minute and nine seconds.

The shuttle closed its airlock as soon as they were all inside, and Kaidan took off as fast as the shuttle would travel, the MSV Fedele growing smaller in the distance as Kaidan navigated away from it.

Only another twenty seconds and the bomb would blow—killing all of the innocent people still alive on the ship.

Wait—had it worked? Had her last, desperate attempt at hacking the systems worked?

Keelah, it had! She had stopped the bomb! With twelve seconds to spare, the bomb was stopped! They could save the civilians!

"Shepard!" Tali shouted, nearly jumping with joy. "I stopped the bomb! We can still save the people who were trapped inside!"

"Saleon is still alive," Shepard said grimly. "The bomb can damn him to hell."

"But, Shepard…" Tali said, hoping that he wasn't insinuating what Tali thought he was.

"Shepard, there are innocent people on the ship," Garrus said, looking Shepard in the eye. "We have the chance to save them—we need to save them!"

"Damnit, Garrus," Shepard said, stepping close to Garrus. "Haven't you learned a damn thing? The last time you let Saleon get away, it was because everyone was too goddamned afraid to kill a few civilians."

"But Saleon was locked inside—he couldn't escape!"

"And how do you know that?" Shepard said, his disapproving eyes staring deep into Garrus, who seemed to shrink back as Shepard approached him. "How do you know he's not just going to run off again?"

Garrus took a deep breath, diverting his gaze from Shepard's angry glare. After a silent moment, he nodded quietly.

"Set the bomb back up, Tali," Shepard said tiredly, sitting back down in his chair.

"Shepard, you don't have to do that," Tali said, shaking her head desperately. There was no way he would do that—he wouldn't just doom innocent civilains!

"I told you, detonate the bomb."

"John, we can—"

"Damnit, Tali!" Shepard said, his face suddenly red with anger. "Set the bomb!"

Terrified at his sudden display of anger, Tali sunk back down into her seat, trying to hide her shaking as she tapped on her omni-tool a few times, resetting the bomb.

Shepard stood above her, staring down at her omni-tool as the timer counted down.

Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Shepard turned to look out the window of the shuttle, observing as the entire craft blasted apart from the concussive force of the explosion, tearing apart the metal hull into shredded bits and pieces. There was no way that anything could have survived the explosion inside of the craft—nobody would have survived.

Tali merely sat down in her chair, hiding her face in her hands.

What had she done?

And what was Shepard?

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

With a sigh of disappointment, Saleon sat back down in his seat. Shepard and his little gang had run away, leaving him alone in his silent chambers, frowning through the glass at the mess he had made.

Perhaps it wasn't too late for the poison gas—but what did it matter? Let Shepard run. He would be back again.

With a quick tap on his control panel, he disengaged the security systems he had on the bomb. The quarian had been so desperately trying to stop the bomb—now her countermeasures would likely work. Those code blocks had been specially loaned to him by the Shadow Broker—he had claimed that there was not a single engineer in the galaxy capable of breaking the system. But it was useless now. No point in killing yourself if you weren't going to take anybody else with you.

They would be back, anyways. As long as they knew that civilians were still alive on the ship, they would be back. Shepard had a history of sticking his nose in where he thought he could help—three years back, he had taken down an entire band of pirates who were terrorizing some colony. Saleon had seen his type before—the kind willing to risk their lives to save a single person. Though he hadn't ever seen anyone quite so _angry._

Hmm, the bomb had apparently reactivated. No worries—he could always disable that later.

But for now, he might as well bide his time. It's not like anybody else was going to mess with him for at least a few hours. Maybe he could get some sleep. Rehearse another recording. Maybe get some more information from the Shadow Broker.

Maybe he could—

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped onto the main deck of the Normandy before any of his other crewmembers, quickly jogging away from them, as fast as he could go.

He hadn't looked a single one of them in the eyes after he had told Tali to detonate the bomb. He had just been so angry, he had just wanted to see the doctor die so badly… he couldn't even see the demon growing inside of him.

What was this curse that caused him to lose control so readily? As he had sat down on his chair, angry at first because both Garrus and Tali had each so quickly disobeyed him, he suddenly realized what he had done. He glanced up at Garrus, who was looking out the window away from him, and at Tali, who had her face buried in her arms, he came to fathom what he had forced her to do.

He forced Tali to murder in cold blood.

There was no way to sugar-coat it—he forced Tali to kill innocent people, just for the chance to take down a criminal.

Damnit, why did he make her do it? Why couldn't he have done it himself—why couldn't he take the blame for himself? Why did he have to make Tali suffer for his bloodthirsty vengeance?

He shouldn't have kept bringing her along—he knew that she wanted to come, that she wanted to make a difference, but why did he take her on missions that he knew wouldn't ever involve geth?

He already knew the answer in his head, but he pushed it away. She was a crewmember, just like everyone else, and he cared for her just like the rest of his crewmembers. Just like Kaidan, just like Ashley, just like Garrus—hell, even Wrex. Why not throw him in there as well?

But she was a different crewmember—she wasn't suited to combat like a krogan or like the grizzled veterans like Ashley. She was just a kid—even though she might have only been a few years younger than Shepard was. She had spent her life secluded on some faraway fleet, and the only experience she had with combat dealt with shooting at targets or maybe using some kind of VI program. She didn't receive the hours that all Alliance recruits had drilled into the heads, teaching them how to deal with the blood and the horrors of combat.

Shepard ran down the stairs, barely noticing as Doctor Chakwas stood at the side of the hallway, gesturing to him.

"Shepard, you look injured—come here for a moment."

"Not now," was his only terse response as he walked past her without even meeting her gaze, marching into his cabin as he thrust himself onto the bed, ignoring the blood he was smearing all over the clean white sheets. Tossing his helmet to the side, Shepard put his head into the pillows, trying to block out everything that had happened today.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

_EMERGENCY SYSTEMS BROADCAST_

_THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT FOR:_

_TIME: NINE-ZERO-ZERO-ZERO-ZERO-ZERO-ZERO GALACTIC STANDARD HOURS_

_MESSAGE PLAYBACK_

On Tali's omni-tool, a hologram of a dark colored salarian with red stripes across his face appeared, exhaustion visible in his wide, tired eyes, though he still spoke quickly as salarians seemed to do.

_"This is the final recording. To those who receive this message, please forward it to Iroliseth Sollen."_

The speaker—who was Saleon, as Tali recognized his voice—paused for a moment, glancing to both sides. The cruel, mocking edge of his voice which she had heard earlier was gone, however, instead replaced with a seemingly out of place sincerity and concern.

_"Iroliseth,"_ the salarian said hesitantly. _"This is Saleon. I… wanted to send one final message before I left you." _Another pause.

_"I… didn't know if I'd still be around to send this message. Or if I'd even be sane enough to make another one in a few months time."_ Saleon chuckled with a sad smile on his face. _"It might be because I'm getting very old—I'm lucky to have even made it to forty-six years. It might be because of the medication that Doctor Michels gave me back on the Citadel—but I'm starting to see things. Maybe it's just paranoia, but I'm constantly checking the radars, the ship sensors, constantly reading up on news feeds. It's taking all of my self-control not to right now. But you're more important."_

Saleon sighed once, looking around his room as he had before.

_"I just wanted to say that whatever C-Sec, or the Council, or the media, or anybody says… it's not true. People are going to be making a lot of accusations that make me look like a monster, but I wanted you to know… that… I'm not myself anymore. I wanted you to be happy, I didn't want you to work in that factory your entire life, like I would have been doomed to."_ With a regretful shake of his head, he continued. _"I've done things that no man ever should have to—I've done things to make sure that I could keep working until I finally had enough for you. I've killed people,"_ Saleon said, his voice seeming to crack slightly. _"I never wanted to. Even when I first started… working… I made sure that nobody suffered. I fed everybody well, and I used painkillers and anesthetics—I even paid the volunteers seventy percent of what I earned."_

_"But I'm not the same anymore—I can feel it when I look at some of the old recordings I have. I've stopped using anesthetic, and I don't even hear the screams of…"_

Saleon paused for a moment. _"I'm not a monster,_" he said, almost more to convince himself than anything else. _"Iroliseth, I… I never meant for it to turn out like this. But I don't want to die as a criminal—a murderer. I never wanted it to be this way. I only have to go out once more, one more good haul, and then I'll have enough for you. Then I'll come back, and it can be like the way it used to be—us together, maybe we could go to the Nova Era bar near the presidium sometime. Remember? You used to always order the giranno juice?"_Saleon sighed nostalgically.

_"But whatever happens, I care for you,"_ Saleon said, looking straight at the camera—straight into Tali's eyes. _"Take care…"_

_"…Son."_

The broadcast blinked away on Tali's wrist, leaving the dark room she sat in feeling a little bit more empty than it already was.

_Even Saleon was a better father than Rael,_Tali thought bitterly—even if she couldn't even come to comparing the two of them in her heart. But at least Saleon had tried to help his son—where was Father right now? Probably in the middle of some silly Admiralty meeting or fawning over some geth body like he always was.

Why could nothing be plain and simple? Why couldn't Saleon just be a bad person? Why couldn't Shepard just be a good person?

In a moment like this, it was tough to see who the real hero was and who the villain was.

Saleon was a murderer—he dismembered innocent people just to make the point of taunting his victims. He had tied innocent people up around a bomb—all for the purpose of enraging Shepard and his crew.

But he did everything for his son—to make his son's life better. The organs that he had grown were all for his son.

Tali shuddered at the thought that her own father could have been a criminal—doing things beyond the law for his own daughter. But Tali knew that it would never be true—even though only a small corner of Tali's mind hoped for something like that. Her Father didn't care—he was more engrossed with politics and science that he was with his family.

But what about Shepard? The man who Tali had thought was a hero had proved his own cruelty. He had saved Tali—he had been the only person to ever show her compassion beyond her own family—and even that was limited to her Father, she thought bitterly. But Shepard had murdered innocent people in order to kill Saleon—a man who might not have even been as evil as she thought.

It was an infinite loop of blame and uncertainty—but who was to blame in the end?

Saleon was to blame, Tali decided. Even if he was trying to make the galaxy a better place for his own son, it didn't discount the cruel things he had done.

What about Shepard? Even if he was trying to make the galaxy a better place for civilization, it didn't discount the cruel things he had done.

The logic was endless—and all it did was bring her deeper into her shell of upset and disappointment in everything that had happened today.

What had happened to Shepard, the man who she had looked up to and admired from the first day she had met him? He had been a hero to her, and now…

Now he was just a murderer.

Why had Shepard set off that bomb? It didn't matter if there was a murderer inside the ship—they could have easily re-docked and captured him, while simultaneously saving the innocent civilians. There was no reason they had to blow the entire ship up—yet Shepard had done it anyways.

Had he always been that cruel? Had Tali just not noticed it, wrapped up in her admiration for the man? When Shepard had saved Tali, did she not notice the anger and cruelty in his eyes? When he gave her the buzzer, which had made her so happy, did she not notice his lack of compassion?

After all, she was only another crewmember on the ship—there was no reason that she should receive any kind of special treatment. And she was a _quarian._Why would Shepard care about a quarian?

Maybe the last few weeks had all just been a dream—a childish imagining of heroics and grandeur. Shepard wasn't the paladin she thought he had been.

Maybe she didn't belong on the Normandy after all.

No matter how beautiful the ship was, how amazing the drive core might have been and how easily she could lose herself in the expanse of electronics, she didn't belong.

She couldn't even fire her weapon at an evil mercenary—what did she have to do with a soldier like Shepard?

And if she couldn't murder innocent people with impunity, did she really belong?

Once they docked on the Citadel, she would leave. She couldn't stay on the Normandy any longer—it wasn't a home anymore. It was a metal shell filled with anger and cruelty.

She could go back to the Fleet—they would probably accept the data she had found on Saren as a good enough pilgrimage gift. Maybe Adams would let her borrow some of the old, outdated ship parts to take back—he wouldn't mind.

Tali sighed, not wanting to put the plan in motion. As much as the events of the last day irked her, she didn't want to leave—she didn't want to admit that the dream might have been over. The best days of her life were right behind her, but she didn't know if she would ever live in that world of wonder ever again.

Maybe she would talk to Shepard—if only he could make her understand why he did what he had done. It was the only way that she could salvage everything that had seemed to collapse around her.

But she didn't want to see Shepard again—she didn't want to look into those eyes that had been so filled with hatred and rage. It terrified Tali—whether she would admit it or not. Those angry eyes had shot so many spikes of doubt into Tali's mind that it left her feeling empty and hollow, as if she had suddenly lost all meaning in her existence.

What had changed?

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Garrus sat on top of a barrel in the dark corner of the armory, idly flipping the safety on his assault rifle on and off.

At first, he had been astonished at what Shepard had done—he had willingly destroyed Saleon's vessel just to take the man out, despite fully knowing that there would be casualties beyond the mad doctor.

But it was just math.

It made sense—especially since the situation was almost identical to what had happened on the Citadel so long ago, the same situation he had mulled over for hours on end and had decided that if he had the power to do so, he would have blown up his ship regardless of civilians.

And Shepard had the power to make that decision today.

Garrus had made a good choice in following Shepard—it was one he wouldn't come to regret. Even if their journey brought them to look death in the eye, it would have been worth it, because Garrus Vakarian—the failed C-Sec officer—had finally taken down Doctor Saleon.

And Garrus finally had the power to see the simple arithmetic behind what Shepard had done today—one mad doctor dead, a few innocents killed. Innocents who were doomed to die anyways—after all, they had been tied together with barbed wire and were hanging underneath a bomb. Their friend had a grenade planted in his chest, and dozens of others had been murdered by his scalpel and medical equipment. The people who had died today had been spared a worse death—a dishonorable death at the hand of some illness or at the doctor's sadistic pleasure.

That's what it all came down to—loss mitigation. Kill a few innocent people here to save a few more innocent people somewhere else. It all made so much sense.

And now he had the chance to put that simple logic to work.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali stopped in front of Shepard's door, lifting a hand up to knock on the steel, but hesitating as she held her hand in the air.

Shepard's angry gaze reappeared in her mind again, the hateful glare he had shot straight through her on the shuttle back from the MSV Fedele—the same cruel stare he had given her on Therum, after he had butchered the mercenary crew that had attacked them.

But on Therum, he had collapsed and his anger had suddenly vanished.

What was going to happen here? Was Shepard still upset? On the shuttle back, he hadn't said a single word—he hadn't even looked up from his hands, as far as she knew. He had withdrawn himself so completely that Tali didn't know what to expect from the hero she once knew.

Sharply drawing in air, she closed her eyes and lightly rapped on the steel door.

After a few moments, there was no reply, and Tali considered simply turning around and leaving. But this was important—this discussion would determine whether or not Tali would have anything to do with the Normandy—and maybe even with stopping Saren.

Because no matter the importance of their task, if Shepard couldn't even attempt to find a way to let innocent people survive…

It clashed too brutally against everything Tali stood for.

Gaining confidence, Tali knocked on the door again, this time more firmly. After a few moments, it slid open, Shepard standing stiffly in the doorway.

He had discarded his tattered and broken suit of armor for a simple navy blue Alliance uniform with a few golden colored buttons, though there was no rank emblazoned on his chest as there typically was on most Alliance officers. Though it wasn't his uniform that attracted Tali's attention—it was his broken and battered face.

Tali's anger and uncertainty drained away in a brief moment as she took in the scarred man's visage—a cruel looking cacophony of ropy white stripes and red dashes that were enunciated by the dim light that came from inside of Shepard's cabin. A long scar made its way across Shepard's eye, another long slash skidded across Shepard's right cheek. The man looked as if he had spent his life living in hell, and the pain in his eyes made him appear as if he had seen every horror the galaxy had to offer.

And the man was only a few years older than Tali—a woman who could barely even call herself that, who had barely seen the galaxy and couldn't bear to eliminate a criminal.

"…Yes?" Shepard quietly said, his hazel eyes pointed down at the ground, unable to meet Tali's searching gaze.

Tali, suddenly unable to find her misplaced anger, stumbled over her words.

"Shepard… d—did… um… are you okay?"

Shepard sighed, appearing to almost deflate in front of her. "I'm fine, Tali," he said, though his words sounded choked. His face refused to show the sorrow and the suffering that was evident in his eyes, instead holding an indifferent grimace and tired looking eyebrows.

Tali paused for a moment, examining the wreck of a man in front of him—a man who wasn't even remotely similar to the one who had been sitting in that shuttle a few hours ago.

"What happened?" she asked plaintively, suddenly feeling Shepard's sorrow in her own heart as if it were contagious. Seeing the pain in Shepard's eyes suddenly brought back all of her own pain—her mother's cruel death, her father's disconnect, her own horrific experiences on Illium and the Citadel.

"Everything that shouldn't have," Shepard said mournfully, lifting his own gaze to match Tali's still-searching eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, speaking as if the words caused him physical pain.

"You killed them," Tali accused, though not with malice or even anger any longer. All that filled her voice was the sorrowful tones of one who had already lost.

"I killed them," Shepard reiterated, taking no solace in stating the words himself. "I killed you."

"…Me?" Tali said, confused at his words.

"I'm sorry, Tali," he said again, this time more firmly. "It's not safe here, with me."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"What… what do you mean?" Tali said with a tone that sounded so horribly lost and confused, as she took a step closer to him.

_It's always the ones closest to me who die,_Shepard lamented bitterly. So much bitterness filled his heart.

Shepard looked into Tali's eyes again, avoiding the urge to grit his teeth through the pain he felt deep in his chest. Those eyes weren't the same—Shepard had killed her.

He had strangled the innocent spark out of existence. He had dragged Tali out of her naivety and into the cruel, cold world with no consideration or respite.

He had killed her.

"You should return to the Fleet," Shepard said, not even wanting to say the words himself. Could he even relinquish Tali?

"N—no," Tali stammered. "I can't go back to the Fleet…"

"I'll find you a Pilgrimage gift," Shepard said. "I can give you the blueprints from the Normandy's stealth drives, or maybe some ship parts, or credits, or weapons, or whatever the Fleet needs…"

"It's not that," Tali said, turning her head to the side. "I… I want to make a difference. I want to help the galaxy," she said, looking straight at Shepard.

"I can have you reassigned to a reconnaissance ship or onto Anderson's ground engineering fleet…"

"I don't want that. I want to be on the Normandy," Tali said, without a single trip or stutter.

"But…" Shepard said, at a loss for words. He hadn't expected her to even want to stay around—not after what Shepard had done to her.

"I killed you," Shepard said helplessly.

"I'm right here," Tali said, taking another step closer to Shepard, who still had his gaze casted to his feet, unable to meet Tali's eyes which felt as if they were filled with death and dread.

Tali's arm brushed his for a brief moment, and he looked up at her, taking a step back as he realized their sudden closeness. Though the sorrow in her eyes—though perhaps it had merely been an imagining of his tired mind—he saw a hint of the same spark he had come to depend on.

"I'm… sorry," Tali said, stepping back as she put her hands together in front of her, looking down at the ground.

A small hope flared up in Shepard's heart at the familiar sight. Perhaps all was not lost—maybe she could escape with her innocence intact.

Shepard looked up at Tali, searching her eyes as she looked down at her thumbs, for the slightest hint of what he had hoped to see.

But it wasn't there.

Shepard's shoulders lowered as he dropped his gaze again, feeling utterly defeated.

"It's not safe for you here," Shepard muttered quietly as he leaned again the frame of the door for support, as his legs had seemingly lost all of their will to even hold his frail form.

"Good night, Tali," Shepard quietly said, turning to leave the girl who he had come to rely on in the last few weeks.

The innocence in her eyes had given Shepard strength, it had given him a reason to live. It was what he fought for but could never find on his own—innocence that he had never had.

Tali's shattered mask filled Shepard's mind once again, soft violet glass splattered from the worst wound of all.

Her innocence.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I'd also like to extend an additional thanks to Azzorath, as he's been helping me a lot in terms of the direction of my story and making sure that everything flows smoothly. He hasn't written anything yet, but, if by any chance you're reading this in the future, make sure you check him out! He's got lots of great ideas.


	18. Heritage

**:: Chapter Eighteen :: **Heritage** ::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Stand strong, my daughter,_

_Said the baleful tree,_

_With words merely whispers_

_And the rustle of leaves._

_But the words go unheard,_

_Beneath the chilling winds,_

_Hidden away within him_

_Beside his bitter sins._

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Kethrel's family died when he was only three years old.

But it wasn't something you would ever imagine once you looked into the vibrant young man's eyes. Even though he was only twenty-one years of age, he still had the innocent sparkle of youth in his eyes as if he were still a child, but with one look at his tightly rippled muscles and the heavy rifle on his hip would tell you that you were dealing with a killer.

On the top of his head was a mane of loose, disheveled brown hair which hung down past his ears, since he hadn't bothered shaving it. In Cain, shaved heads weren't required—not like they were so often forced upon the poor indoctrinated agents of the Alliance.

"After all," the teachers had so often preached to him. "The first step to control is making everyone think the same—and the best way to make them think the same is to make them look the same."

But Kethrel was a lucky one—perhaps the death of his parents had been a blessing in disguise. If his family hadn't been attacked by the batarian slaver ship that fateful day, or if Cain hadn't come in to rescue him from the dead arms of his parents, he would have either been dead or working as another mindless goon for the Alliance—a fate perhaps worse than death.

Because Cain had opened his eyes to a world beyond what those poor soldiers could have even imagined. A world of color that hadn't been torn to shreds by the nuclear wastelands they surrounded themselves with—great landscapes of beautiful mountains and flowing rivers of the purest water, blue skies and vibrantly colored flowers. All his life, Kethrel had seen the beautiful tableus of Earth—humanity's home planet—as well as those of other wonderful garden worlds that the salarians and asari occupied—but a beauty that the Alliance had long ago forsaken.

The cruel figurehead of the Alliance wouldn't reign for much longer—at least, that's what the headmaster had assured him. It technically wasn't his domain to question the plans, but the beautiful thing about Cain was that free will was promoted—a man wasn't punished for thinking beyond what his drill sergeants poured into his mind. In Cain, you were free—perhaps even freer than the asari or the salarians, and certainly freer than the turians and their strict military hierarchy.

Rolling himself out of his comfy bed, which was colored a royal blue, he slipped over to the wooden cabinet where he stored his weapons and armor—which as an official Cain soldier, he was required to wear any time he was on duty. At this point, it was more of a formality than anything else, since Cain hadn't made any aggressive moves against the Alliance for a few years now, but keeping tradition wasn't always a bad thing, since there was no way of being sure that their peaceful station wouldn't be attacked by a drifting band of pirates or mercenaries looking for an easy score.

Slipping into his almost fabric-like suit of woven metal strands, as well as the slightly stiffer black pads which hung over his chest, stomach and shoulders, he strapped on a sharp pair of black pants and slipped into his similarly colored black boots. While a Cain soldier could—and was even encouraged—to tailor their own armor or modify it, they were required to keep the logo intact and ensure that the majority of the suit was kept black for stealth and recognition purposes. It wouldn't do to have their soldiers all wearing suits of bright pink, after all!

Clipping his standard weapons to his side—a heavy pistol as well as a shotgun, since he likely wouldn't need anything else on patrol duty—he stepped out of his shared chambers and headed down the hallway, not planning on being late this morning.

"Rel!" a gruff voice shouted from inside one of the rooms that Kethrel walked past. With a wry smile, he stopped and turned into one of the rooms—a makeshift armory of sorts. They still hadn't migrated most of the supplies from the old facility that they used a few hundred miles away, but Bradley had made do with what he had.

"Didn't think you'd try to leave with sayin' hi," Bradley said with mock anger. The old man—or at least that's what Kethrel called him, because even though he was only a decade older than him, the engineer always liked to keep a long, grey beard growing from his chin to complement his long black hair. He had tried dying his beard at one point to a stark black, but eventually he had grown tired of taking time out of his day to take care of it, instead claiming that "Anybody who makes fun o' the beard can eat shit," while he continued to let it fade to its natural grey.

"Sorry," Kethrel said with a low bow and a grin. "I thought that we'd be back before sunfall, so I wasn't too worried."

"Sunfall?" Bradley said, a confused look on his face. "You mean you haven't heard yet?"

"No," Kethrel said, frowning slightly. "Should I know?"

"May as well," Bradley said with an unconcerned shrug. "Command told me they're sending you off—didn't tell me where, though."

Kethrel thought he heard the man grumbling "they don't tell ol' Bradley damn nothing," but the man's quirks were of second importance.

"They're sending me off? Why? Did I do something wrong?" Kethrel thought with horror. He had only ever seen one other soldier get exiled, but it was something that he couldn't imagine ever having to suffer. Being sent off into the terrible galaxy, alone and without a family—since Cain was like his family—it was a fate he didn't even want to contemplate.

"No, no," Bradley said, waving his hands in front of him. Most likely he had reached a similar conclusion as Kethrel had, and he knew the grave consequences just as he had. "Nothing like that—sounded more like a promotion."

Promotion was a very vague term around Cain—there were no official ranks, since ranks were just a way of marginalizing people who were lesser than you—but the general meaning of the word was still very understood. Making the advance to a position where you could better contribute to Cain's cause was a very good thing—provided you were capable of serving Cain to the best of your abilities.

"I wonder what it could be," Kethrel said distantly. Perhaps a chance to finally strike at the so-hated Alliance?

"Wouldn't know," Bradley said gruffly. "Either way, make sure you come back here after your meeting—I got something for you, kid."

"Meeting?" Kethrel asked.

"Ain't nobody tells you a god damned thing!" Bradley said, storming around the armory in, once again, mock anger. He waved an arm in the air threateningly. He stopped, mid-tirade, and turned to look at him.

"I'm sure there's a reason for it," he said more quietly. "They'll probably grab you mid-shift or something like that—to keep you on your toes. Either way, make sure you come back here."

Kethrel nodded, giving the man a warm smile before he stepped out of the room again and headed down the hallway to the main platform where he would be stationed.

Kethrel stepped through the sliding doors and into a grandiose chamber, a circular room with a grand domed roof which was made of glass to clearly show the beautiful looking blue skies above their station, gentle light pouring in from the white star which provided light to this planet.

"Kethrel," a tall, scarred man with dark skin said, stepping towards him. "No last name?"

"No, sir," Kethrel said, adding the sir out of respect for age and experience rather than rank.

"No need for formalities," the man said with a slight smile and nod. There weren't many soldiers in Cain who had no last names—it simply denoted that their real family was gone or not worth mentioning. For all intents and purposes, he may as well have been named Kethrel Cain—which sounded fairly good to his ears.

"I'm your new commander for the time being," the dark skinned man said. "Ol' Bottrey botched up," he said with a chuckle at his own wordplay. "Accidentally fell down the stairs at the old facility while he was fumbling in the dark—an honest mistake," he said, so as not to make it seem as if he were making fun of the old commander. "Good man, if only he weren't so clumsy," he said with a smile. He turned away from Kethrel, before he looked back.

"Oh, my apologies," he said. "Call me Logan. I'll be over there," he said, gesturing to a few computer terminals in one corner of the room. "We head out in twenty minutes."

Logan left Kethrel alone, idly pacing around the room in circles while looking up at the beautiful sky above him. It was such a shame that no other humans could have a sight as wondrous as this one—if only the Alliance hadn't bombed the rest of humanity into submission.

"Kethrel?" another voice said, this one deeper and more grave. Turning around, Kethrel looked into the eyes of a man he had never seen before—a pale skinned man with sunken, brown eyes and a thin moustache under his nose which looked meticulously groomed.

"Yes, sir," Kethrel said, this time adding the sir since he didn't know who he was addressing.

"Control and I would like to speak with you for a moment, if you please," the man said, stepping back as he pointed to another of the attached doors. Nodding his compliance, Kethrel followed him through the door, which smoothly slid open to reveal a dimly lit—other than a bright light hanging over top of a table in the center of the room—meeting area of sorts, with three other man, all equally scarred and grizzled, leaning over the desk.

"This is Kethrel," the first man introduced him. The other men slowly stood up, straightening their backs as they turned to face the newcomer.

"Welcome," one of the men said, with a scar above his eye and a rough goatee. "Are you aware of why you're here?"

"No sir," Kethrel replied, feeling that these people were likely much more important than he was.

"Then let me fill you in," another of the men said—this one shaved clean. "Have you heard of recent attacks on the Alliance?"

Kethrel slowly shook his head with a small tinge of shame, as if he should have known.

"Saren Arterius—a Council Spectre—has allied with the geth and is attacking the Alliance."

"Geth, sir?" Kethrel asked. That bit of ignorance wasn't his fault—it wasn't something he had been taught in his curriculum as far as he know.

"Remember the Artificial Apocalypse?" another of the men asked—a bald man with a shiny head.

Yes, the Artificial Apocalypse—a theoretical imagining of what would happen to the galaxy if a program that was capable of modifying itself were created—it would expand to uncontrollable levels and be capable of destroying the galaxy.

"The geth are a small version of that—they're not true AIs, but they're pretty close," he explained.

"Not important," the bearded man said. "You'll find out soon enough—but don't worry, they're working with us, not against us."

"Upon our urgings, Saren is attacking the Alliance first—though he plans on eliminating the rest of galactic governance while he's at it."

"Isn't that a problem?" Kethrel ventured to ask. He knew that he wouldn't be reprimanded.

"You get a few crazies every so often," the moustached man said. "He won't succeed—even with the geth, he isn't powerful enough."

"But he doesn't need to know that," the bald man said slyly. "We get him to take out the Alliance for us, and then…"

"Then we can finally rescue humanity," Kethrel said, almost breathlessly. Had their opportunity to finally change the galaxy come?

"Absolutely," the bearded man said, a smile wide on each of the men's faces. "But we need to make sure that Saren doesn't fail that task—otherwise we'll still have a long battle ahead of us."

"And that's what you're for," the shaven man finished as Kethrel's eyes widened.

"But… how?" he said, uncertain of this sudden task ahead of him. He was just a soldier, after all!

"Just get close to Saren," the moustached man said. "Make sure you know his plans—and convince him to strike the Alliance a little bit harder," he added.

"Then you send those plans back to us," the bearded man said.

"Are you sure that I'm… sufficient?" Kethrel said. He had been raised by Cain not to have a single prideful bone in his body—he knew his limits well, and he knew that there were others who would be much more up to the task before him.

"You have the highest aptitude scores in your class," the bald man said simply. "We've seen your weapons skill—it's unprecedented, even by many of our own grandmasters."

"And you have the spirit to get close," the moustached man said. "You're young and youthful. Easy to like. Easy to get close to."

Kethrel beamed on the inside at hearing the compliments. Everything they said was true, but he wouldn't ever summon up the words himself.

"We'll send a shuttle for you in three hours," the shaved man said. "Make sure you pack your equipment appropriately—you won't be back for a month or so."

"Now, run along, little one," the bearded man said with a smile. Grinning back at them, Kethrel bowed low and turned around, nearly skipping with excitement as he ran past Logan, who gave him a knowing nod, and into Bradley's armory.

"I'm heading out!" Kethrel said, throwing his arms into the air.

"I already told you that!" Bradley said with a lopsided grin. "What're you doing?"

"Working with some Spectre," Kethrel said, speaking quickly due to his excitement. "He's leading an army to attack the Alliance and I'm going to make sure that we can finally reclaim humanity!"

Bradley chuckled loudly and patted Kethrel heavily on the back. "You're going places, kid," he said with a warm smile. "I told you that you were goin' to be important."

Kethrel smiled warmly at Bradley, excited that he was finally going to be able to make a difference.

"Now, about that gift," Bradley said, pulling his hand away and turning around to rummage in a cabinet. From inside, he pulled out a heavy looking sniper rifle with a wide barrel and a wide looking body.

"I don't like the Mastiff," Kethrel said simply. "It's too heavy and kicks too hard."

It was true—and Bradley should have known that, since he had been making weapons for him since he had started up in his military training. The Mastiff might have been Cain's pride and joy, but the fifty-kilogram rifle simply didn't work without the matching one-hundred kilogram suit of heavy metal plates. If he fired it on full-auto, he was certain he could fly with it.

"How dare you!" Bradley said with a mock gasp of horror. "Callin' my baby a damned Mastiff!"

Kethrel smiled at the eccentric engineer. "Then what is it?"

"I call it… the Bradley Blaster!"

"Bradley… Blaster?" Kethrel repeated with a raised eyebrow. "What, ran out of dogs to name the guns after?"

"No!" he said, pulling the gun back with more mock horror. "Well, fine, if you hate it so much…"

"Fine, tell me about it," Kethrel said, rolling his eyes and sighing heavily as he leaned over on the workbench, Bradley quickly replacing the rifle and throwing aside his drama.

"They might say that the Mastiff is the pride and joy of Cain, but this little bugger here might suren overtake it. This is the first one I've made—just for you, since I know how much you like to multitask. So try not to break it!" he added, sliding it across the table to Kethrel.

Kethrel picked it up, surprised at the weapon's relative lightness. It didn't weigh much more than his standard assault rifle—maybe around thirty kilograms—despite actually being bigger than the Mastiff rifle which was simply monstrous in its own right. The entire rifle was painted black other than a few red colored details, and bulged abnormally around where the heat dissipaters were located.

"So… it's a sniper rifle?"

"That and more," Bradley said, lifting it from his hands. He pointed to a lever on the right side of the weapon—which Kethrel had noticed but paid no mind to—and swung it down once, handing it back to him.

"Now it's a shotgun," he said.

"What?" Kethrel said, eyes widening as his mouth opened wide.

"Damn right," Bradley said with a wide grin making its way on his face. "It's a shotgun… and a sniper rifle!"

"Best of both words?" Kethrel said simply, examining the weapon with new admiration.

"But wait! There's more!" Bradley said, putting on his best showman's voice. Turning the lever once, he handed it back to him expectantly.

"So…"

"Now it's an assault rifle," Bradley said, beaming with pride.

Kethrel chuckled breathlessly, shaking his head at the marvel before him. "How did you do it?"

"Quite simple really," Bradley said, rolling up the sleeves on his dirty white overcoat. "Since almost everything uses the same size metal flakes nowadays, thought to myself, hey, why'n the hell don't they just put everything together? And that's what I did. Just tweaked the capacitors inside so that if you want an assault rifle, it'll shoot slower pellets, and if you want a sniper, it'll shoot them real fast."

"And what about the shotgun?"

"That was the toughie," Bradley said, frowning as he shook his head. "Had to throw in six metal blocks to draw from at the same time to make the shotgun spread—that's why it bulges like that."

"That's amazing," Kethrel said, shaking his head again as he hefted the weapon in his hands.

"Put it to good use," Bradley said with a shrug as he turned around. "Get you going."

Kethrel nodded, clipping the weapon to his hip, hanging as if it were made to fit there.

"Thanks for everything, Bradley," Kethrel said, giving the man a sincere nod. He turned, ready to head out the door, when he was interrupted.

"Wait, Kethrel," Bradley said, slowly turning around. It was one of the few times he hadn't called him "Rel" or some form of "boy".

"Be careful out there, alright?" he said with a frown, concern evident in his brown eyes. "We had some soldiers stationed out in the voyager cluster—all of them, dead. Even the ones wearing the damn portable tanks."

"I'll come back," Kethrel said.

"Just be damn sure you do. I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't give a damn," Bradley said, one of the few moments where the tough man looked as if he were going to shed tears.

"Galaxy's a messed up place," Bradley said. "Lots o' people wantin' to hurt you and not enough wantin' to understand. Take care, kid."

Kethrel nodded solemnly, looking at Bradley for the last time in a few months, as he turned out the door and headed over to his cabin.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"You cannot simply cast humanity aside like this!" Udina said loudly, his voice still growing louder as he became increasingly upset with the Council before him.

"We cannot spare our own forces to support the Alliance," Valern said with a hard edge to his voice. "The geth are amassing at our own borders and we cannot risk losing our own colonies and stations by assisting you."

"It's your own fault, ambassador," Sparatus said while absentmindedly fiddling with his suit. "We warned humanity that they were being too hasty in colonizing beyond the verge and into the Terminus systems."

"But we must stop the geth together! They'll simply push past all of the Alliance before moving on to you!" Udina shouted.

"What a shame," Sparatus said sarcastically. "Besides, humanity has proven that it wants nothing to do with the Council."

Damnit, Shepard! If only he had accepted the chance to be a Spectre when he had it… then none of them would be in this god-forsaken situation.

"The Alliance is more useful to you alive than dead," Udina said, trying to coerce them in any way he could.

"So are our own fleets," Valern retorted caustically.

Udina stammered for a few moments, trying to find some way to counter everything that this horrible meeting had degenerated to, but he couldn't find words to put into his mouth.

"I understand your concern, ambassador," Tevos said, her calm voice contrasting starkly with the cruelty and ambivalence from the other two councillors. "But you must understand that we warned humanity that colonizing the Verge would be dangerous."

"From pirates!" Udina sputtered. "You warned that the verge would be dangerous from _pirates!_Not geth!"

"And what are geth besides metal pirates?" Sparatus said with a chuckle, a talon idly tapping on the side of his face.

Udina clenched his fists and resisted the urge to scream at the enraging turian.

"You… you have to help. As a part of the galactic union, humanity demands support!"

"And the rest of the galactic union gladly denies it," Sparatus said, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Tevos.

"If there is nothing else to be said…" Valern stated, putting his hands in front of him. Udina toyed with the idea of simply insulting the stubborn councillors, but cast the idea aside, knowing that even if they wouldn't turn over now, they would eventually—and insults weren't going to make swimming those waters any easier.

Shaking his head—trying to restrain the anger—Udina turned around and stepped down the stairs from the grand Council chamber, sighing deeply.

"Well, that was a failure," Anderson said quietly, stepping out from beside the stairs.

"I'd like to see you do damn better," Udina said angrily, looking for some way to vent out his frustrations.

"I couldn't," Anderson admitted. "But now we know why they aren't acting."

"Because they're not involved," Udina said. "Why does it matter?" he said with a bitter shrug and a wave of his hands.

"Because now we know how to get them involved," Anderson said with a sly look in his eyes.

"You better tell me what you're planning before I have to shout at someone," Udina said, calming down slightly now that he could tell that Anderson had a plan.

"The other admirals and I were working on it," Anderson said, glancing around him to make sure that there were no observers spying on his conversation. "We plan on luring the geth to their planets."

"Luring the geth?" Udina said loudly, before he caught himself and anxiously looked around him to make sure nobody had heard his outburst. "That'll get us all kicked off the Citadel!" Udina said, this time more quietly.

"It won't matter where we are if the geth kill us all," Anderson said grimly. With a resigned sigh, Udina put his face in one of his hands.

"So how do you plan on doing this?"

"Very simply," Anderson said with a twinkle in his eye.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard stepped out of his cabin, every measure of what he had been a few short hours ago masked by a shower, a clean shave, and a new uniform which was clean and unwrinkled.

He had pushed his regrets and his disappointments out of his mind for the time being—there would be a better time to deal with them. He had to keep those self-deprecating thoughts out of his mind—he had a war to wage against horrors far greater than those he submitted himself to, and he needed to be in peak mental capacity to deal with those.

But it still didn't mean he was ready to talk to Tali—or Garrus, or Ashley, or anybody that he had been with him on that shuttle. His last conversation with Tali had hurt him more than he would ever admit.

He needed medi-gel—even if it wouldn't heal the depression he felt himself sinking into once again. But it would stop the flow of his blood, keeping him alive for a little bit longer.

If that fate was even preferable.

Stepping into the medbay, Shepard nearly stopped and spun around on his heel as he noticed Kaidan sitting on the medical table in the middle of the room, but he mustered his self-control and continued in regardless, trying to hide the wince on his face.

"Shepard," Doctor Chakwas said without even looking over at him. "Finally decided to come visit me?" There was a slightly cold tone to her voice.

"I was tired," Shepard said quietly, not wanting to even begin explaining anything that had occurred.

Chakwas waved a hand in the air, obvious unconvinced by his meager explanation, but turned around and ran her eyes across him.

"You don't look injured—is something broken?"

"No," Shepard said, glancing over at Kaidan for a moment. "I just needed some medi-gel—do you have any extra?"

"Yes," Chakwas said. "Just give me a minute—it's packed away somewhere in my storage closet."

She turned around and headed into a small room in the back of the med-bay, the door closing behind her, leaving Kaidan and Shepard alone.

"Got some rest, Shepard?" Kaidan said, looking over at him. Shepard merely gave him a small grunt.

"You're hurt?" Shepard asked, more for the sake of pretending he cared than anything else.

"No, no," Kaidan said, waving his hands in front of him. "I wasn't even the one fighting," he said with a chuckle. "No, it's just migraines—I get them every so often because of the implants."

"Biotic implants?"

"Yeah, the old L2's," he said with a chuckle. "I'm on the lucky end I guess—I've heard of other people with L2's that had them overload and blow. I just get migraines."

"Shouldn't you get new implants, then?" Shepard asked. Kaidan chuckled slightly.

Shepard's worries and concerns slowly began to fade away from the forefront of his mind. Kaidan's chuckles were oddly similar to his old tactician's… even the way that Kaidan carried himself was very similar to Roy.

"I could, I guess—I mean, I hear that the new L4X implants are great—but that requires some pretty intense surgery that I'm not really in the mood for. If I had the choice, I don't even know if I'd want to do it again for these implants… but I didn't really have much of a choice when I was little."

"Little?" Shepard asked incredulously. "You mean… you didn't choose to get implanted?"

"No," Kaidan said with a grim shake of head. "Back in the day, there was a program—"Baaht" training, they called it. B-A-a-T. They took us away from our families, told them that we were too dangerous to be alone, and shipped a bunch of us off to some station a few light years away."

"The Alliance did that?"

"Not technically," Kaidan said. "It was a company called Conatix that supplied the station and the training, and the Alliance only supported them under the premise that they learn more about biotics and how they work."

"But it turned out for the best," Shepard said. "Your biotics are pretty strong—and I'm sure that the whole surprise aspect gives you the edge in most conflicts."

"Maybe," Kaidan said, sounding unconvinced. "They put us through a lot of crap there—they wouldn't even let us eat unless we could use our biotics to get the food. But we all stuck together—we were the only people that we knew in the whole universe. That kind of situation really bonds you together."

"That sounds more like torture than training," Shepard said, his memories flicking back to his own brutal N7 training regime. But even then, they had provided food and drink to their students, regardless of whether they had succeeded or failed.

"It was one turian—Vyrnnus," Kaidan said. "He was the cruel one—it was him that usually made it tough for us. One time, he beat a kid so much that—"

"Alright, Shepard," Doctor Chakwas said, stepping out of her closet. "I've got twenty packets of medi-gel inside this box which should last you at least a battle," she said sarcastically. "Try not to use them all in one place."

"Will do, doctor," Shepard said with a slight—but false—smile. With a salute, Shepard turned around and left the med-bay, leaving Kaidan alone with the doctor.

Kaidan was a good friend—even after what they had been through, he had been content to leave the issues of the past in the past. Shepard had even forgotten about his worries for a moment as he idly chatted with Kaidan about his biotic training—even if it was a little bit morbid and brutal.

And even back on Eden Prime—another event that Shepard really didn't want to recall in his mind—he hadn't brought up the issue of Jenkins' death ever again, despite their confrontation outside the battlefield that day.

Hmm.

Kaidan really was quite like Roy—just with biotics.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Back down in the engineering core—where Tali could hide beneath thousands of lines of advanced programming and the tangle of wires underneath the sleek metal surface—she felt the subtle vibrations flowing through the ship that was evidence of their arrival at the Citadel. For all of Joker's bluster and bravado, he still couldn't dock the ship without jolting it this way and that—though of course, Tali wouldn't have been able to do any better, so she let the prideful man be.

Joker was an odd enigma to Tali—a strange mixture of overcompensating self-confidence mixed with a lot of defensiveness whenever it came to the topic of his injury. Tali had only ever spoken with him directly on one occasion, when Adams had sent her up to get some statistics from the cockpit of the Normandy, but despite his somewhat crass personality, it made Tali at least feel at home, since he treated her just as he treated pretty much everybody else on the ship.

But was it a home?

The whole tumult of feelings and emotions from her last encounter with Shepard left her confused and uncertain about the entire galaxy, it felt. Her meeting hadn't answered a single question—in fact, it only brought up more—and left her wondering whether she had just imagined everything that had happened outside of the MSV Fedele. The Shepard she knew that was likely sitting in his cabin right now wasn't the Shepard she witnessed then—but how blurry were the lines between those two men?

In her initial rage and disappointment—both at herself and Shepard—she had very easily tossed the idea of leaving the Normandy through her mind, even considering expulsion to be a favorable option, as then she could be a martyr to her own ideals—but now, she couldn't even believe the concept had crossed her mind. There was no way she could simply get up and leave now—there were things much greater at stake than her pride or her silly naivety. Sometimes, there were going to be consequences to the actions she took. And she was simply going to have to accept that.

The words sounded empty and bitter in her mind.

Maybe things would change—Shepard was upset, and perhaps that had clouded his judgement. But what had made him so upset? It had happened on Therum as well, when his eyes suddenly turned dark and he seemed to lose control of his own actions and emotions. But on Therum, there hadn't been any reason for him to lose his temper as he had at Doctor Saleon.

Maybe time would heal all wounds, Tali thought, as her mind returned to Saleon. His last message that Tali had recovered through her tether to the MSV Fedele which had been established during her hacking attempts—it should be delivered. In her spare time, Tali had run through some of the Citadel records—with a C-Sec access key from Garrus—and she had found the location of the so called "Iroliseth Sollen", a fairly rich salarian with little information other than that he was unemployed and living in an apartment close to the Presidium.

Tali hadn't told anybody else about the recording she had heard—she didn't know if anybody else deserved to bear the load of knowledge with her. That knowledge had shattered her preconceptions about Saleon, turning the cruel murderer into an equally cruel—if not mentally deranged—murderer, but a man who at least did the things he did to make the galaxy a better place for someone he cared about. Splattering the blackest evil with brushstrokes of grey uncertainty wouldn't make Garrus or Shepard feel any better about what they did—and it certainly wouldn't help Shepard. He appeared to be suffering from something, as it was. He didn't need anything else to worry about.

Tali turned out of the engine bay, giving a short nod to Engineer Adams who gave her a salute in response, and she stepped into the elevator, ignoring Garrus and Ashley who were both preoccupied in opposite corners of the armory.

As she stepped out of the elevator, she quickly jogged to the front of the Normandy, simultaneously hoping that she wouldn't see Shepard and hoping that he was waiting to get through the airlock. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she noticed that the cockpit and the airlock were both empty, save for Joker who was sitting in his chair as usual.

"Heading out, Tali?" Joker said, spinning around in his chair as Tali—who thought she was walking quietly—came to a stop outside of the airlock.

"Yeah," she quietly said. "I have… business."

"Fair enough," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Try not to get hurt again—not sure if Shepard's in the mood to carry you."

Despite obviously poking fun at Tali's last voyage into the Citadel, she didn't miss the evident concern behind his attempt at humor. With a thankful nod, Tali stepped into the airlock and activated the equalization cycle which would release her.

Once the doors opened, she stepped out onto the docking platform which hung out from one of the grand wards, far away from the tall buildings so as to avoid the risk of starships crashing into the tallest skyscrapers.

Tali leaned against one of the railings at the far edge, looking down at the ground which was hundreds of meters below her. Even at this distance, the near constant elegance of the Citadel could be witnessed, small patches of green were large enough to be made out and even a bunch of specks—which were likely the bustling crowds down on the streets below—made their way to whatever destinations they headed towards.

Taking a deep breath, absorbing the beauty and normality in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves, she pushed herself off the railing and idly stood by, stretching her arms as she decided how she would make her way to Iroliseth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the airlock opening up once again—and Shepard stepped out, equipped in his typical jet-black suit of combat armor beside an enthusiastic looking Garrus.

And before Shepard could cast his glance to the fleeting flash of purple, Tali was gone down the stairs.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Not the quarian," the turian warned his human companion, who shook his head impatiently and lifted his rifle off its perch from the high railing.

"Why not the quarian?" he asked with a grimace, looking down the sights of his rifle again, putting the purple-suited woman in the middle of his crosshair.

"Damnit," the turian said, shoving his rifle aside. "We can't give our position away—if Shepard knows anything is wrong, he won't even show his pathetic little head."

"But if we kill the quarian, then he'll come running out to rescue her!"

"You wish," the turian scoffed. "The quarian's probably part of the engineering crew—a commandeered slave or something of the like. I'd bet Shepard wouldn't even turn his head if he heard her scream. Besides," he added with an arrogant air. "I'm sure you'd like to become associated with C-Sec again, once they find out where we are."

"Fine, fine," the human said resignedly. "One shot, then we get out of here."

The human regretfully watched the quarian suddenly dash away down the stairs. Too bad.

"There!" the turian said excitedly. "That's him, right?"

"Damn right it is," the human said, examining their target through his scope. "In the flesh. Just like the vids…"

"Alright, we only have one shot at this," the turian warned. "Got the armor piercing slug in?"

"Plus disruptors," the human replied with a confident grin. "Look at his puny armor," the man said with a chuckle. "He'll go down real easy."

"Wait just a second until he stops…"

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I hope that you've all been enjoying the story and it's progression thus far. If you have any concerns or questions about the story, definitely let me know in a review, private message or email! Keeping in contact with my readers is something that makes this an extremely interesting and rewarding experience.

So, until next time, have fun!


	19. Husks

**:: Chapter Nineteen :: **Husks **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Summer's gone and love has withered,_

_I believe in nothing yet nothing is what it seems._

_All is gone and promises slithered,_

_You gave me nothing yet nothing is what it seems._

_-Opeth-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Shepard stepped out of the airlock beside Garrus, taking in the surroundings with an impassive eye. The once majestic beauty of the Citadel had no effect on him any longer—it simply didn't even feel as if it mattered. Thousands of people were dying by the minute because of Saren's geth army, Anderson was waiting for him in the human embassies, and he had executed Tali's innocence right in front of her.

Despite Shepard's melancholy, Garrus was beaming with excitement. For whatever reason, he seemed to be very pleased to be back on the Citadel—maybe something to do with Saleon? Either way, it was evident that the turian was happy—something that wasn't always easy to tell with their strange facial features.

Shepard stopped at the far railing of the docking bay—the same place that Tali had been just a few moments ago, though he didn't know that—looking over at the buildings littered the landscape like a plague, popping up haphazardly and all over the place.

"Shepard, is that…" Garrus said, stepping beside him as he narrowed his eyes, gazing off in the distance.

"Down!" he suddenly shouted, shoving a heavy shoulder into Shepard's chest, throwing him into the ground. Just as Shepard lost his footing and began to tumble, a loud crack filled the air as a bullet skidded past him and cut a hole clean through the metal flooring of the docking bay.

"What the hell was that?" Shepard said, but his words fell upon deaf ears as Garrus had already whipped his rifle off his back, extending it and looking down the sights in one clean movement. Garrus' rifle cracked once, and then twice, holding his focus straight on his targets for a few moments before he lowered the sight and shook his head.

"I only got one," he said disappointedly. "I saw two of them—a turian and a human. I got the human."

"How… how did you even see them?"

"I saw his scope," Garrus said casually, still staring hawkishly at the place where the assailants had been, though Shepard doubted they would be putting their heads back up any time soon—at least not when Garrus had just taken one of their men down.

"Assassins?" Shepard said almost breathlessly, pushing himself up off the ground. "Were they trying to kill… me?"

The concept stunned him. No matter the fact that he had spent many years as an Alliance-sanctioned assassin, and more recently had operated as a counter-assassin, he couldn't grasp the fact that an assassin would come after him. After all, he was just a soldier—what had he done that was so important to elicit attention from assassins?

Maybe there was a lot to lose, he reasoned. He was the Hero of Elysium, the youngest N7 graduate, and currently the only team stationed to saw through Saren's operations—at least as far as he knew. If he were to fall to an assassin, little more than morale would fall—but morale was as precious as metal in wartime.

That would have been a sad way to go—by the bullet of an assassin—but perhaps it would have been merciful. At least he could have gone without seeing Tali's dead eyes again.

"Go tell Joker to warn the rest of the crew," Shepard said without diverting his gaze from the high walkway where the assassins had been stationed. With a nod, Garrus turned around and ran back into the Normandy.

How shameful, trying to kill Shepard with a sniper rifle. They knew they couldn't take him on in close combat, so they were forced to resort to long range.

A small grin formed on Shepard's face as everything seemed to click into place—the rules of the game and how to play by them. The cost of losing? His life.

Shepard instantly categorized all the locations that he knew of on the Citadel. Some places would be extremely safe for him—places like the back alley behind Chora's Den, simply due to the tight quarters, though he had no reason to go back there. Places like the docking bay, where he stood now, would prove to be dangerous, as there were hundreds of vantage points that Shepard had no hope of monitoring. His cloaking module would prove invaluable to passing though those areas.

Would Tali be safe? Shepard wondered suddenly.

She would be fine, he reasoned. She was a skilled shot, and after she had killed a group of innocent civilians, killing a few lowlife assassins wouldn't be beyond her, he thought bitterly.

And with that thought in hand, Shepard casually stepped down the staircase, slowly making his way to the human embassies, beginning his game of evasion.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali stopped in front of the door to Iroliseth's apartment—room number seven-hundred and twenty-four. The whole building reeked of arrogance and excess, and she had been forced to sneak in the back door to even get in, after she was roughly reminded of her heritage.

When she had first stepped confidently into the front door, the human standing at the front dressed in a red suit had given her an odd look, and when she had asked to visit Iroliseth Sollen, the asari at the front desk had given him some kind of hand signal which spurred him to try and pick Tali up and throw her outside, but she wouldn't take that kind of abuse again. Angrily slapping the man's hands away, she showed herself out—and then showed herself to the maintenance door.

From there, the elevator hadn't been far away—and from there, this room hadn't been difficult to find. There were easily accessible records of all the residents—even fancy apartment buildings like this one didn't use modern security protocols.

And here she was, standing hesitantly in front of Iroliseth's wooden door—a rarity compared to the commonality of metal doors throughout the galaxy. Everything about this building made her feel uncomfortable—the red carpet with the gold lining that matched the golden colored walls and ceiling lamps, the perfumed scent that Tali could smell through her olfactory ducts—it all seemed wrong. A display of excess like this on the Fleet could be punished severely. Wasting credits or resources on luxuries was simply selfish.

But she wasn't here to judge, she reminded herself. She lifted a hand and knocked on Iroliseth's door, the wood pleasantly resonating as she tapped on it, unlike the crude ringing of the metal doors that she had knocked on in the past.

_Silly,_ Tali reprimanded herself, for becoming so caught up in the noise of a door. It was just a door, after all.

After nearly a minute of waiting—and a lot of self-questioning, wondering if she had found the correct room—the door opened, revealing a slender salarian who was pale and peach colored, with faint white stripes across his face which slipped underneath his chin and up to the side of his face. The man looked very young—compared to many salarians, who aged so fast that even salarians at the age of thirty had wrinkles and other evidence of aging. He looked at Tali somewhat expectantly, with a hint of disdain.

"Yes?" he said impatiently. "Room cleaning is scheduled in another two days."

For a brief moment, Tali considered simply leaving this pompous salarian in his palace of luxuries to slowly rot himself away. But she took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"I have a message from your father," she said quietly.

"Father?" the salarian replied incredulously. "Should I care?"

Tali's eyes widened at his lack of concern. She didn't know much about salarians, but maybe they didn't have the same kind of family systems that quarians had?

"Uhm, your father? Doctor Saleon?"

Irolisen's amused grin faded away in a brief instant as he heard the doctor's name, and he backed into his room.

"Come in here," he said quietly, closing the door behind Tali as she stepped into his small slice of paradise.

The room may as well have been for a king—there was a grand sized bed in the back of the large, singular room, with gleaming red and gold sheets which matched the walls and the carpeting. A large screen and a comfortable looking chair also filled the room, beside the black-tiled kitchen area which was filled with a variety of odd foods that Tali had never seen before.

"Saleon wasn't my father," Irolisen quietly said, gesturing for her to sit down at one of the plush chairs. Tali gently lowered herself into the chair, but was unable to stop herself from sinking in a few inches into the soft fabric and cushions.

"Saleon was a good friend of mine," he said. "He was… like a father. But I haven't seen him in years."

"Did… you know where he went?" Tali said, not wanting to shatter his conception of the man Saleon was if he didn't already know.

"I only wish I did," he said mournfully, shaking his head. "He kept sending me credits every month—nearly a hundred thousand every time. I don't know where he got the money from, but there was never any way to return it."

"So… you spent it… on this?" Tali said, trying her best to keep judgement out of her voice.

"It was his apartment," Iroliseth said, evidently detecting her disdain. "Before he left, he told me that if anything ever happened, that I needed to take care of it for him."

Tali sighed quietly. Saleon had prepared everything for this man who wasn't even his own son—he had pushed him into a life of comfort and luxury where he could simply enjoy life—even if it was only from the plush bed, through the perfume, and through the shaded windows. And what had her father done?

"How did you even find him?" Iroliseth said, looking at Tali curiously. "I haven't seen many quarians before… and I didn't think that he would use a quarian to relay his messages." There was no condescension in his voice any longer.

"It's not important," Tali said, unable to find a way to explain anything that had happened. Apparently, Iroliseth knew nothing of where his money had come from.

Tali tapped on her omni-tool a few times, loading up the same message that she had earlier, uploading it to the large screen at the back of the room so he could see Saleon's image more easily.

"_Iroliseth,"_ Saleon said hesitantly. _"This is Saleon. I… wanted to send one final message before I left you."_

Iroliseth stared intently at the screen, unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar figure of the man who had been a father to him.

"Left… me...?" he said mournfully.

As the message continued to play, the same as Tali had listened to earlier, she watched Iroliseth's gaze filling with sorrow as Saleon explained his degrading mental condition.

"_I just wanted to say that whatever C-Sec, or the Council, or the media, or anybody says… it's not true. People are going to be making a lot of accusations that make me look like a monster, but I wanted you to know… that… I'm not myself anymore."_

"What… what is he talking about?" Iroliseth said quietly. Tali couldn't find any words to say.

"_I've done things that no man ever should have to—I've done things to make sure that I could keep working until I finally had enough for you. I've killed people,"_ Saleon said, his voice seeming to crack slightly. _"I never wanted to. Even when I first started… working… I made sure that nobody suffered. I fed everybody well, and I used painkillers and anesthetics—I even paid the volunteers seventy percent of what I earned."_

"_But I'm not the same anymore—I can feel it when I look at some of the old recordings I have. I've stopped using anesthetic, and I don't even hear the screams of…"_

Saleon paused for a moment. _"I'm not a monster._"

"No…" Iroliseth said, standing up from his chair as he stared at the screen. "You actually did it… you did it…"

Iroliseth sat back down in his chair, putting his face in his hands as he continued to watch with horror.

"_I only have to go out once more, one more good haul, and then I'll have enough for you. Then I'll come back, and it can be like the way it used to be—us together, maybe we could go to the Nova Era bar near the presidium sometime. Remember? You used to always order the—"_

"No!" Iroliseth shouted, throwing a bowl at the screen, shattering the thin sheet of glass and putting a stop to the video feed. Tali stood up, shocked by the way the thin salarian had suddenly seemed to snap. Iroliseth stood still, breathing heavily, as he stared at the shattered remains of the screen.

"Saleon did it—he grew organs inside of his patients," Iroliseth said, still staring ahead of him. "That's why he ran away—isn't it?"

Tali nodded silently.

"Then… then… he found more patients. That's how he got the money."

Iroliseth's mind was putting everything together very quickly—he must have known more than he had been letting on.

"And… and… he lost control," Iroliseth said, shaking his head. "Then you found him," he said, looking at Tali and the shotgun on her back. "You had to kill him… then you found the video."

"I'm sorry," was all that Tali could say.

Iroliseth was silent for a long moment as he panted heavily, staring down at the ground.

"He did it for you," Tali quietly said, hoping that it would alleviate the pain.

"He murdered innocent people!" Iroliseth shouted, throwing his hands into the air. "He murdered… for me!"

"He wanted you to be happy!" Tali shouted back. "Would you rather that he never even spoke to you—would you rather that he was always too busy with his work that he wouldn't even look at you!"

Tali bit her lip, stepping backwards and lowering her head at her own unexpected outburst. There was a moment of silence as Iroliseth stood still, looking at her.

"Would you rather that he didn't even care," Tali said quietly, with a bitter edge to her voice.

Iroliseth looked at Tali with his wide eyes, sadness evident in the dark orbs.

"He tried," Iroliseth said quietly, slowly nodding his head. He took a deep breath, and sat himself back down in his soft chair, putting his hands on his head as he closed his eyes.

Tali stood by awkwardly, uncertain of if she had overstayed her welcome. As much as she detested Saleon for what he had done to those innocent people, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy for the kind of care he had given a man not even of his own blood.

What had her father done for her?

Even if he had been a criminal like Saleon, at least he would have cared. At least he wouldn't have spent his days debating silly politics and his nights poring over manuals and parts.

"…Thank you," Iroliseth said uncertainly. He stood up, looking around his luxurious apartment with an emptiness in his eyes. "It means a lot to hear from… father… again."

Tali nodded once, slowly backing up to the front door as Iroliseth stared out his grand window.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Kethrel stepped through the airlock of the small, six-man shuttle which had transported him to the giant vessel where he would spend the next few months. Behind him stood two other soldiers—brief comrades during their short flight—who were nodding to him with reassuring smiles on their faces.

Saren's vessel—apparently dubbed "Sovereign"—was intimidating, to say the least. For all of Cain's technological superiority over the Alliance, they didn't have the fleet or the numbers to combat them in open warfare—but that was where Saren would come in. Sovereign had to be at least a few kilometers long—massive even in comparison to most Alliance dreadnoughts, based on what their reconnaissance had determined. It would be interesting to see the vessel—apparently it was close enough to see from the station that they would be docking at.

Not to mention Saren also had "geth"—apparently deadly robots? They had often been schooled of the dangers of using AIs, but now, here he was, prepared to work hand-in-hand with the very robots he had been warned never to trust. Obviously, Saren had a way to keep them in check—otherwise they could have easily taken him out. After all, he was just one man—he couldn't have been that powerful.

Perhaps he was an Alliance escapee as well—that was how most of Cain's senior officers had been established. There was also another tale, though Kethrel wasn't sure how true it was.

Kethrel's uncertain thoughts stopped dead as soon as he stepped through the frame of the airlock and into the ship where Saren was supposed to be stationed. On the opposite side of the docking bay was a massive window which stretched from floor to ceiling—obviously designed for the express purpose of amazing the occupants of the building, which it very easily did.

Sovereign was even more grandiose than Kethrel had imagined from the statistics he had been given—the ship stretched beyond his field of view from left to right, crafted from a metal that he had never seen before which had a purplish color. The entire vessel felt fluid, as if it were alive—it had an elegance that even the models of brilliant asari ships hadn't had.

The whole thing felt incredibly… ominous. Despite the beauty, there was no denying that it was a deadly work of art. It's main purpose was to bring any victim to its knees… and luckily for them, the only victim would be the Alliance.

"_Be careful,"_ one of the senior officers had warned Kethrel. _"Saren might be what we need to take down the Alliance, but he's incredibly dangerous."_

Kethrel stepped into the room, casually waiting for someone to greet him as he observed Sovereign's majestic frame from a distance. After a few minutes, when nobody was forthcoming, he slowly made his way to the door at the end of the room, which slid open as soon as he pressed the button.

Another grand room met Kethrel, with similar floor-to-ceiling windows and a variety of terminals spaced haphazardly throughout the room. This one stretched many meters away, likely the main hallway of the station.

Stepping past the angry looking krogan and the snobby looking batarian, Kethrel made his way past the few people that milled about the area, all the while taking in his surroundings to try and get a gauge for what Saren was like.

"Cain?" a turian said from behind him. Kethrel turned around to face him and unconsciously put a hand on the hybrid rifle at his hip. Kethrel hadn't spoken to many turians before—only two, as a matter of fact—and this man's sharp tone threw him off somewhat. Initially, it felt wrong, but when Kethrel turned to face him, the razor-edged voice matched the cruel visage it came from.

The turian had narrowed blue eyes and a shriveled looking face which made him appear to be very old. The most stunning part of his face was the gleaming metal plates which rested easily along the sides of his mouth, and the faint glow that came from behind his lips.

Cybernetics.

Their purpose was unknown to him, though. Cain had it's own cybernetics doctor, a fairly stingy man named Francis, but the cybernetics that Cain typically experimented in were dealing with specific improvements to soldiers—such as faster stimulus response times or higher visual acuity to pick out targets with ease.

"Who are you?" the turian said, running his eyes up and down Kethrel's frame. Underneath that discerning gaze, Kethrel felt as if he were naked, despite the metal plating that protected him.

"Kethrel," he said, standing stiffly and keeping his gaze firmly locked straight ahead. He didn't know who this turian was, but it was very likely this man had quite a bit to do with Saren's operation—a lieutenant, perhaps.

"They didn't want to send a real soldier to oversee the operation?" The turian's words came out with bitter sounding condescension which made Kethrel's hands twitch at his weapon slightly. In Cain, nobody could call themselves superior to another. Even mentors and peers shared a mutually beneficial relationship which meant each person gave the other an equal amount of respect. Condescension was something unheard of in Cain.

Which made it sting all the harder coming from this hot-wired turian standing in front of him. Biting his tongue, Kethrel avoided the urge to slap the turian or to come back at him with an equally stinging remark—perhaps something about his face—and instead, gritted his teeth as he reminded himself his purpose here.

"I'm the top of my class," Kethrel said, his only real commendation.

"Class means nothing, human," the turian spat. "The only reason that we're working with Cain is because your access to Alliance channels will make my victory simpler—without that, you're nothing more than scrap metal to me."

"Need more for your face?" Kethrel said, with a slight smirk on his face. The turian stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face Kethrel with a look of absolute condescension and a little bit of surprise.

Without diverting his gaze, he gestured at one of the batarians beside him. "Gogan, kill him."

"Yes, Saren," was the batarian's response—one that made the blood drain from Kethrel's face as he clenched tightly onto the weapon at his hip. He had just inadvertently insulted the person who controlled the vast power that surrounded him. The batarian, who was obediently following his master's orders, pulled a rough looking shotgun from his back and held it at the ready down at his side.

"Kill him," Saren said again, narrowing his eyes at Kethrel. In a moment, Gogan dashed forward, leading with his shotgun as he sent a barrage of bullets into Kethrel—or at least, where Kethrel was.

His one and only commendation wasn't given without merit—where Kethrel lacked in real battle skill, he compensated with almost every battle tactic that he had committed to memory, and with the swift skill which he handled his weapons. Typically, he had carried an assault rifle and a shotgun with him, but thanks to the "Bradley Blaster"—which he still needed to find a better name for—he could do that and more.

While the batarian madly dashed to the spot where Kethrel had been a moment ago, he had rolled to the side, deftly unhooking his hybrid rifle off his hip and pulling it close to him as he finished his roll. By the time he stood on his feet, the batarian was shifting his attention and shotgun towards his target. Kethrel brought his rifle to bear, spraying assault rifle rounds into the batarian in an attempt to hold back his mad dashes and to put distance in between them.

Despite the hail of gunfire, the batarian continued to dash straight towards Kethrel. Unbeknownst to Kethrel, Gogan was one of Saren's more illustrious soldiers—known for his hyper-charged shield generators which were claimed to last at least five times as long as the average shield generator—but he had no living victims to claim truth to that statement. The batarian had no fear, as his shields would hold underneath any hail of bullet that the arrogant boy in front of him could ever send with his petty assault rifle.

Meanwhile, Kethrel began rapidly stepping backwards from the charging batarian, grimacing as he simultaneously took note of his rapidly decaying batteries and the wicked blade mounted on the front of the batarian's shotgun.

The distance between them was being closed rapidly—in a few short moments, Gogan would be upon him with his shotgun—and his shields wouldn't be able to hold up against him.

Kethrel took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared to carry out the risky plan he had concocted in his head. Putting one foot behind as a brace, he prepared for Gogan to slam heavily into him…

And as the batarian ran into him, holding the bayonet to spear into Kethrel's chest, he spun low and swung a leg out wide, taking the batarian's legs out from underneath him and sending him sprawling to the ground, his metal plating screeching against the ground.

Before Gogan could even comprehend what had suddenly felled him, he felt the tip of the man's assault rifle at the base of his neck, and a high powered sniper round swiftly ended his life.

Standing atop the dead batarian, Kethrel quickly lifted his weapon up again, holding it at the ready—even though he knew if Saren sent even two of his men to attack him, he wouldn't be able to hold his own. Every man in the room was a grizzled soldier, and despite his prowess, he didn't believe that he was at any advantage.

Standing across the room from him, Saren slowly stepped forward with a ghoulish grin on his face.

"You'll do fine," he said with a chuckle.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Good, Shepard, you're here—it's about damned time," Admiral Belford said as he lowered himself down in his chair. "We've been waiting for you to get back to us about the New Canton assassins."

Shepard nodded once as he allowed the door to the embassies to close behind him, leaving himself, Belford and Anderson alone, and hopefully in secrecy.

"It's Salu Karah," Shepard said definitively. Belford's eyes widened slightly at the proclamation, and he looked over to Anderson for support.

"Salu Karah?" Belford said unbelievingly, slowing shaking his head. "It can't be—there must have been a mistake. Maybe they were using their emblem, or something."

"It makes perfect sense," Anderson said, eyes distant as he held a hand up to his chin.

"But it's a Council-sanctioned mercenary band. What would they have to do with Saren?"

"He's a Spectre, remember?" Anderson said. "Or at least, he was. But they might not know that."

Belford sat back down in his chair, contemplating the situation. "You mean… they think they're working for the Council?"

"We can't know for sure," Anderson said.

There was a short pause as Anderson and Belford contemplated the subject.

"What's Salu Karah?" Shepard said, uncertain of what they had meant by Council-sanctioned.

"They were initially a group of assassins owing allegiance to the Council," Anderson said. "The team was elite and extremely well hidden—even now, we don't know what they were called."

"But they went rogue," Belford said. "Ditched the Council and spat in their faces—they even killed one of the old asari councillors. And they couldn't kill the damn sneaks, so they had to buy them back."

"The Council gave them large sums of money and political security," Anderson explained. "Similar to the Spectres—but with the additional deniability because they were only a mercenary band."

"They weren't punished?" Shepard asked.

"Council sure tried," Belford said with a chuckle. "But the slippery snakes kept slipping away. They even sent an elite team of Spectres after them—none of them came back alive. But they got a turian's head in a box."

Shepard frowned. "Then… how do we stop them?"

"It shouldn't be that difficult," Anderson said, waving a hand. There was an odd lack of worry on his face. "They've deteriorated significantly since their days as official assassins—the Council hasn't called on them for nearly a century."

"Now they're just a bunch of thugs—but Saren's called them back into action," Belford said with a grimace.

There was a moment of silence. "So what do we do?" Shepard said. "You said you had a plan in place."

"We do," Anderson said. "But this complicates it."

"Damn right it does," Belford said, shaking his head as he pulled out a cigarette—which he never seemed to light.

"We initially planned on sending you to simply kill the leader, but Salu Karah isn't like most mercenary bands," Anderson said.

"They've got a whole chain of command—kill the king and everybody just shifts up. Doesn't solve a damn thing."

"Unless we give them a new king," Anderson said, a smirk on his face.

"You've got to be kidding," Belford said, leaning forward in his chair. "That's damned crazy—who would they follow?"

"Someone with experience, skill, and loyalty to the Alliance…"

"Like Shepard?" Belford said.

"No," Anderson said simply. "Shepard has other things to take care of—we need someone who can devote their full attention to the band and make sure they don't turn against us again."

"What about Satigny?" Belford said again, shrugging helplessly.

"Maybe," Anderson said after a pause. "We'll have to see."

"Hackett might know somebody," Belford said with a resigned shrug of his shoulders. "Hackett's got more connections that I do."

"We'll figure that out later—we still need to do some digging through the old records," Anderson said, as he headed deeper into the room towards the lone terminal.

"Then we're done here?" Shepard said.

"For now," Belford said with a disinterested wave of his hand. As Shepard turned and began to leave, Belford leaned forward again.

"We'll call on you once we've got a concrete plan," Anderson said from the back of the room. With a nod, Shepard turned and showed himself out of the embassies.

Shepard took a deep breath, his eyes glancing back and forth across the open hallways—he hadn't forgotten about the person who had tried to kill him earlier.

He walked down the stairs from the embassies, keeping to the shadows almost unconsciously as he had been trained and had trained himself from so many years of experience, the only thing keeping him plodding along being his will to go on.

Shepard was a wreck—and he knew it. His shoulders ached from the meager weight of his combat armor, his legs screamed in pain when he jogged, and his arms felt leaden. Never before had he felt so inept—the coldness in his bones seemed to hold and restrict him.

It was his sleep—or rather, lack thereof. Humans weren't designed to run without sleep for as long as Shepard had, and even the metabolic boosters would only carry him so far. No matter the strength in his mind, if his muscles wouldn't comply, he was useless.

But he would keep plodding on—there was no alternative. He hadn't had a peaceful rest once since Akuze, and there was no reason for anything to change now. Those horrible dreams—the dreams that he felt cutting through his skin and his bones with a burning agony as hot as a sun crafted into a blade—they wouldn't leave him alone. The ghosts of the past would not relent, and neither would Shepard. Despite the weakness in his muscles, his mind was clear—there was no guilt or regret to cloud his conscience.

So he would plod on.

Shepard dipped down a stairway which would lead him to a more closed area of the Citadel, one where assassins wouldn't be able to prey on him from afar and would be forced to deal with him up close—in Shepard's domain. And in Shepard's domain, he wasn't going to be the prey.

It was a very similar alleyway to the one that Tali had been in the last time they visited the Citadel, where that C-Sec officer had been beating up Tali for no good reason.

_But he hadn't killed her,_ Shepard thought, wanting to do nothing more than plunge his own dagger into his chest. To end his agonies and suffering in one fell swoop, to join his companions in the halls of the dead…

No guilt or regret to cloud his conscience. If only it were that simple.

But there was a galaxy that needed him. Whether he liked it or not, he had become too important to simply give up and die. Saren's forces were killing thousands of innocent people by the minute—innocent people like Tali.

But at least their commanders wouldn't be killing them.

Why the hell did it hurt so much? Why did he care so much about Tali's innocence? No soldier had innocence. Every single soldier had seen the trials of death firsthand—and none of them had come out unscathed. It was just like another scar to be held.

But Shepard knew why it hurt so much.

It was because he needed it.

Innocence.

A commodity he lost so long ago, a commodity that he had yearned for all those years but not until he had met Tali, the unquenchable wellspring of all that was pure and untainted…

And he had killed her.

Shepard heard the sound of the safety on a rifle being clicked off as the barrel of a gun was gently placed against the back of his neck.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he awaited—no, encouraged—the bullet to come and end his life. But there was still, deep and sheltered within the scarred tangle of horrors in Shepard's mind, a small piece of fight left.

Spinning on his heels, he lifted his shoulder and swung his right elbow into the handgun fixed on his neck, slipping it free from the man who held it—a burly looking human with a shaved head and a dirty white shirt—as he brought his other hand forward and shoved it into his assailant's chest, sending him to the ground, hands waving in the air. In the same brief moment, he grasped onto the handgun and turned it against his assassin, shoving it into the man's throat.

"Do it!" the man shouted, grabbing onto Shepard's wrist with both of his hands as his bleak eyes seemed to pop from his face. Shepard paused for a moment, the tone of his voice ringing too many familiar bells in his mind.

Therum.

"God damnit, Shepard!" the man shouted again, the anger in his eyes fading to desperation. "Pull the damned trigger!"

It was him. The man who he had left behind.

"Pull the fucking trigger!" A tear flowed down the man's eyes, all anger faded away in a flash, his eyes hopeless and desperate for a single bullet to end his life.

"You're… from Therum…"

The man breathed heavily, still clenching heavily onto Shepard's wrists—not pushing him away or pulling him closer, just holding him, as if he were supporting himself.

"Damn right I am," the man said in a pained whisper, his voice cracking imperceptibly.

"You're alive?"

"Does it look like it?" he said, despair in his voice. "I'm a fucking husk! The geth… they killed everybody!"

"Everybody?" Shepard said, a pit of regret forming in his stomach.

"My daughter, my wife," the man said with a sob, moisture forming in the burly man's eyes. "My sons, my sister, my father… they killed everybody!"

The man broke into deep sobs, tears freely flowing from his eyes as he shut them tightly. "Alba was only six years old… how could she have fought back?"

"Kill me!" the man shrieked again, pulling roughly on Shepard's arm and shoving the barrel of the handgun into his own unprotected throat.

Shepard stared emptily into the man's hollow eyes, two husks meeting head on. Two dead spirits.

"I'm sorry," Shepard said breathlessly, his expressionless face hiding the horror that was welling up inside of his stomach.

"They're dead, Shepard!" he said with a hushed whisper. "Let me join my family..."

Shepard nearly pulled the trigger—not out of pity, not out of malice, but out of empathy. Perhaps if it had been him on the ground, he would have begged for the same fate.

Shepard pulled the handgun away from the man's weak hands, dropping it on the ground.

"I've lost everything too," Shepard said weakly. "But we have to keep fighting despair—we need to keep stepping forward. It's what the ones we left behind would have wanted."

The words felt hollow and meaningless even to his own ears. The miserable consolation for those who have nothing left.

The man's breathing slowed as he stared at the wall behind Shepard, as the two stayed in their positions in silence for a minute. Finally, the man stood up, unsteadily pushing himself off the ground with his hands.

"I have nowhere to go," the man said with a sorrowful look at the ground.

"Go to C-Sec," Shepard said. "Find Captain Karrok—tell him that Commander Shepard sent you."

Perhaps a man who had lost all that he loved could find harmony in being the purveyor of peace.

But could Shepard?

With a weak nod, the man turned away, leaving his pistol on the ground as he slowly made his way around the corner, disappearing from sight.

* * *

As always, thanks for reading!

For those of you who have been reading the entire story thus far, let me know how you're enjoying it. The feedback is very important to me-even a short review means more to me than you might imagine.

I'd also like to extend a special thanks to Azzorath, who has been helping keep me on track and preventing silly mistakes. Thanks!

I'll see you all again in a few days!


	20. Rescue

**:: Chapter Twenty :: **Rescue **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Hold me, this world is falling down on me._

_Feel it, is it the dead or death that walks among us?_

_Hold me, few more steps and I will fall._

_Watch me, I'll take you with me,_

_Too sad to leave alone._

_-Swallow the Sun-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Alright, fine—so maybe the Yellowknife wasn't the best freighter ship before the twenty-one hundreds, but come on—that thing had a lot of heft," Kaidan said with a chuckle as he looked over at Ashley with a smirk on his face.

"Heft, as in unnecessary weight," Ashley retorted with a grin. "The real magic is in the frigates—like the ones that carted supplies to Shanxi while it was under siege."

"I thought that the turians had the whole station blockaded?"

These little chats were precious to Kaidan—some of the few moments where he could forget that he spent his life fighting. As the two of them strolled down the Citadel—Ashley wearing her typical heavy pink armor, as she claimed she didn't feel comfortable in anything else, and Kaidan wearing his thinner suit of recon armor, they simply chatted back and forth, talking about whatever happened to come to their minds. The discussion of ships had come from a blaring advertisement for a magazine article claiming the "top fifty ship designs of all time".

"That's just what all the textbooks say," Ashley said. "If you took your nose out of them, you could learn something," she teased with a knowing smirk.

"Hey, you don't think I learned biotics from a textbook, do you?"

"I bet you did," Ashley said, trying to stare through Kaidan's poker face. He held his neutrality for a moment before he rolled his eyes.

"Alright, fine—but only some of it."

Ashley laughed lightly, shaking her head. Kaidan chuckled lightly as well—seeing Ashley laugh was contagious.

Kaidan never had any siblings, and even during BAaT training, his comrades had been more that than anything else—merely friends. Ashley was like the sister that Kaidan never had.

"What do you mean about Shanxi, anyways? Which frigates sent supplies?"

"Like the Potomac," Ashley said. "Or the Progress—that one made at least six trips fully loaded with food."

Kaidan nodded along with what she said. "So, since the textbooks don't tell me everything," he said with a smirk, "How did you know about those frigates?"

"Grandfather," Ashley said with a slight frown. "He was… in charge."

"Must be nice having a granddad to look up to," Kaidan said with a reassuring smile. He knew all too well what had happened on Shanxi.

"Maybe," Ashley said, her grin slowly fading away. "I got to see all of his records, though—but they never published all the ships that provided support to the station while it was under siege."

"That's a shame," Kaidan said. "Too bad they never got the recognition they deserve."

They continued walking in silence for a few moments. "So, you still think that a frigate could take on an armored, equipped freighter?"

"Hell yeah," Ashley said, her grin reappearing in an instant. "It's not about the size or the armor—an ant can kill a mouse, as long as it fights smart."

"Who are you kidding?" Kaidan said with a chuckle. "When have you heard of a mouse dying to an ant?"

"Not the kind of thing they publish in the textbooks—remember?" Ashley teased. The two shared an easy laugh at Kaidan's expense.

"Speaking of the textbooks," Ashley said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at a shifty-looking turian who was standing on the side of the hallway they were walking through. "I hope that you can fight."

"What's that have to do with textbooks?" Kaidan retorted, but his comeback was unheard as Ashley continued to watch the turian on the side of the alleyway. Kaidan focused his attention on him as well—attempting to be discreet, unlike Ashley. The turian was dark-faced with white stripes along his face, and he wore a long black robe. But underneath his robe, the faint gleam of his brilliant white armor was visible.

"You don't think…" Kaidan began to say, speaking under his breath so that the turian wouldn't guess their suspicion—though Ashley's intent staring had likely already given away their knowledge.

"I do think," Ashley said, putting a hand on the pistol at her side. As she gripped onto the hard plastic handle, the turian jumped into action, thrusting his cloak to the side as he pulled a shotgun out from underneath the robe, levelling it at Kaidan.

Before Kaidan could react, Ashley had already whipped her pistol out of its holster and was firing rounds accurately into the turian's face. The first round from his shotgun hit Kaidan in the shoulder, but the impact was readily absorbed by his shields.

The first turian went down quickly as soon as Kaidan began firing his pistol as well, leaving the turian in a bleeding heap on the floor, his shining armor stained with blue blood. Despite their victory, another two turians stood behind them, wearing similar suits of armor, one armed with an assault rifle at the other with a long, deadly looking sniper rifle.

Kaidan and Ashley both ducked down low instinctively to make it more difficult for their assailants to hit them. Ashley had pulled her assault rifle off her back and was unloading rounds into the two enemies, while Kaidan was busy cursing his decision to leave his heavier rifle back on the Normandy. Calling upon his biotics abilities, he thrust a fist forward and sent the two turians toppling backwards as they rolled down the hall away from them.

"Wrong way, Alenko!" Ashley said with a chuckle. "Bring them close so we can take them down!"

With a shrug, Kaidan fired as many shots as he could from his pistol while Ashley sprayed down the hallway with her assault rifle to try and keep the two enemies from coordinating. Despite their efforts, the two enemies seemed to know each other very well, and had already stood up in a defensive position, with the assault rifle bearing turian crouched low and the turian with the deadly sniper rifle taking aim over his shoulder.

With a quick glance over at Ashley, Kaidan could see that her shields had failed her due to the way the assault rifle rounds bouncing off her armor sparked and skidded away as the ablative coating absorbed as much energy as it could from the high-speed rounds. Kaidan tried to bring his biotics to bear again, but he couldn't focus them quickly enough.

With a grunt, Ashley dived in front of Kaidan for no particular reason—but that reason became very evident as a loud crack filled the air and left Ashley on the ground as a pink—and increasingly red—heap on the ground. Having gathered enough dark energy around himself, Kaidan lashed out with his fists again, dragging the two enemies towards him as they floated helplessly in the air.

With the ease that only a soldier could have, Kaidan dispatched the assault-rifle toting turian with ease, while the other had made his best attempt to regain balance while floating in the air, and had actually fired a few haphazard shots in Kaidan's direction, but was unable to make any of the bullets connect. Finally, a few shots from Kaidan's pistols burst his shields and then his skull, as Kaidan released his hold on his victims, letting them fall to the floor.

Kaidan dashed over to Ashley and rolled her over onto her back, swearing to himself as he saw the small hole in her chestplate on the right side of her chest. Blood was slowly dripping from the wound, but it seemed to have stopped thanks to the self-healing layer inside of her armor which should have stemmed the flow of blood.

"Damn, Kaidan, keep your head down," she said with a grin, followed by a grimace as she coughed, a hand clutching her chest.

"I'll get you to the hospital," Kaidan said hurriedly.

"Don't worry," Ashley said. "I'm fine."

"You might be a soldier but you're not a god," Kaidan said, lifting the heavy woman off the ground.

"Be careful carrying me around like that—someone might think that you're copying Shepard," Ashley said with a grin despite the pain.

"I don't think anyone will blame me when they see that," he said, nodding his head towards the wound. "You might have punctured a lung—is it hard to breathe?"

"I'm fine," Ashley insisted despite a grit of her teeth. "The medigel closed the wound up."

"And what's wrong with copying Shepard?" Kaidan said with a chuckle as he continued to run with his wounded companion.

"Nothing," Ashley said somewhat defensively. "Just don't tell anybody else about this—I don't want anybody thinking that I'm a quarian or something."

Not an argument he was planning on getting into at a time like this.

"I won't tell a soul," he said instead, with a reassuring smile.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Sparatus, are you certain that this is wise?"

Sparatus looked at Tevos as if she had suddenly sprouted wings. "Of course it's wise—why else would I say it?"

Tevos sighed, not showing any outward sign of her discontent despite the fact that they weren't currently in session, and nobody was watching their every move.

"The Alliance has supported us in the past—and they _are_ part of the galaxy."

"And they will soon cease to be," Sparatus said with disinterest. "Humanity has long been too power-hungry—perhaps this is what was needed—some trimming, if you will."

Tevos frowned and turned to Valern behind her. "What do you think of this?" she said, gesturing to Sparatus, who was coolly examining a talon.

"It's not just a matter of whether we think humanity has been too ambitious—committing our own forces to fight the geth could be disastrous. So far, they have not attacked any of our settlements, and if we strike again them, it could provoke counterattack."

"Then what will the geth do after they destroy all of humanity? Give up?" Tevos said disapprovingly.

"Then they will be sufficiently weak for us to eliminate," Valern said as if his conclusion should have been evident from the start. "It's a simple matter of logistics."

Tevos paused for a moment. "Our people live on many Alliance settlements," she said. "New Canton only has as sixty-three percent human population. Elysium only has a fifty-four percent human population. If those colonies get attacked, our people are going to suffer too."

"Then they made a poor choice in associating themselves with humans," Sparatus said definitively.

Tevos sighed inwardly as her companion's stubborn relentlessness about humanity. Even in the past, he had been tolerable of their various operations throughout the galaxy—despite a slightly negative disposition towards humanity in general—but ever since the day Shepard had turned down the position of Spectre, he had treated every human he met with disdain and detachment. The few times that Udina had come to make pleas for humanity's sake, Tevos had been forced to turn down his request as a result of her companion's unbending decision to simply let humanity sort out their own problems.

Sparatus was going to kill someone sooner or later, she worried. He simply hadn't been himself.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The hunter crouched low, strapping on the suit of thin black armor that he had pilfered from the corpse that lied naked on the ground. The metal mesh that made up the armor bent and flexed like cloth, yet was capable of great levels of protection.

Especially when that protection was the guise of friendship.

The hunter slung his heavy sniper rifle, the specially modified sniper rifle capable of felling giants in one loud crack, over his shoulder and onto his back where it slid into the groove that had seemingly worn into his back after so many days of endless running with the heavy machine bouncing across his shoulders. It easily slid over top of the metal mesh that the hunter wore. On his side, the hunter clipped a pistol—a black pistol that was more akin to a small sniper rifle than any handgun he had been handed in the Alliance.

It felt like years ago—months of living on instinct, and instinct alone had honed the hunter into a machine capable of great harm and death. His memories had faded away, as the hunter did not need memories to fuel his wrath—his wrath existed as an entity of its own, it was what gave his muscles the strength to run without tiring, to heft his heavy rifle and to pull the trigger, taking another life by instinct and nothing else.

Standing slowly and stiffly, the hunter closed his eyes, instinct leading him in the direction that the soldier that lied dead on the ground had come from. He had come from their outpost on this planet—he had seen their patterns before. They would land, spread their guards, and carry out their business with whoever lived on the colony nearby.

And then they would all die.

Carrying himself over the hill, calmly walking to the quiet sounds of chatter between the two guardmen that stood watch outside of their outpost. Stepping forward, the two guards stopped midsentence to turn and look at the man approaching them from over top the grassy hills.

"You're back already?" one of the men shouted out. "I thought that you were still on your circuits!"

When the hunter didn't respond, the two guards looked at each other for a moment, confused at what situation would bring the man back to the encampment at such an early hour.

"And where'd you get the rifle?" the second guardsman said, pointing to the large—and very unique—rifle on his back.

The hunter walked in between them as they stood, curiously looking at him, as he pulled his pistol out of its holster and shot the man on his right in one swift movement, simultaneously grasping onto the other man's rifle before he put a bullet into his head as well, his gaze never looking at either of his victims.

He didn't need eyes to feel their death.

Calmly stepping into the compound, he levelled his pistol at the man lounging in his chair at a terminal and ended his life, splattering his blood across the walls with a loud crack. From inside, the hunter could hear the sounds of weapons being armed and readied as the soldiers inside hustled to find out what the loud gunshot had been.

From the door to the side, three soldiers ran out carrying various assault rifles, one dressed in the heavy garb that seemed to be the band's trademark. Despite their coordinated expertise, their battle was already lost as they ran into the room, because the hunter was ready for them.

Swinging his rifle off his back, the hunter fired a shot into the man with the heavy armor, throwing him backwards onto the ground with a look of surprise on his face as his near-invincible suit of armor failed him, dragging him to the ground as blood began to pour from the wound which landed in his chest. Still smoothly swinging his rifle, the hunter swung his handgun from right to left in front of him, two swift and deadly accurate shots taking the two remaining soldiers in the throats before they could even begin to muster any resistance. In only a few seconds, the battle was already over.

Stepping through the door that the soldiers had come from, the hunter levelled his handgun at two men cowering in the corner of the room, holding their hands above their heads, and ended their lives swiftly. The sound of an alarm suddenly began blaring, but it did not strike fear into the hunter's heart.

Because fear was for the weak.

Another two soldiers ran in from the adjoining room as they met the same fate as their comrades, with two bullet holes seeming to appear in their throats with one swing of the hunter's arm and two loud cracks.

"We're under attack!" came a shout from the next room, as the sound of weapons and shields being powered up became evident as the hunter calmly waited for his quarry to make itself evident. In a few moments, another four soldiers entered the room, two young males who had terror evident on their faces at the sight of their bleeding comrades on the floor, a female who showed no fear, and a bearded man who stomped angrily towards the slender man standing at the opposite end of the room.

With another simple flick of his wrist, the hunter fired another volley of shots, taking all three of the bearded man's companions down in the briefest of moments, causing him to stop mid-stride and glance to both of his sides in terror, realizing how quickly his support had been cut down by the man in front of him.

"You… you bastard!" the bearded man shouted, rage and fury replacing the horror in his eyes. He reached over the shoulder of his heavy plated armor, pulling a grenade launcher from his back and pointing it at the hunter. He pulled on the trigger, priming the grenade as a grin formed on his face.

"If you kill me, this grenade blows and we're both dead!"

The hunter smiled a cruel smile as he revelled in his quarry's desperation. The man was all too familiar—one of the twelve faces that were forever emblazoned into the hunter's mind, the ultimate goal of his wrath. Only once those twelve faces were forever crushed into the dirt beneath him would he lay his rifle to rest.

The hunter calmly pointed his heavy pistol to the man's chest, firing a shot to his chest which he knew would merely be absorbed by the thick metal plating. As he fired the bullet, the bearded man jumped in terror, believing his life to be over, but he held fast to the trigger on his grenade launcher as the terror changed to satisfaction, realizing his advantage over the slim man before him. He couldn't even pierce his armor! He had no power!

He never noticed his companion, wearing an identical set of armor, bleeding on the floor in the adjacent room.

With a triumphant shout, the bearded man jumped forward, holding his grenade launcher towards the hunter with one hand while he pulled a handgun out with the other, but before he could even secure a grip on his pistol, the hunter swung into action, his hands moving so quickly that the smug look on the bearded man's face barely had time to fade back into terror before the hunter's long barrelled rifle was shoved into his throat.

The explosion rocked the entire building to its core, threatening to bring the entire structure down to its knees. Despite the tremors, the building held fast, despite the melted hole blown out of the west corner by the incendiary grenade launcher.

And out of that hole walked the hunter, calmly stowing his long sniper rifle on his back as he took a breath of the clean air that blew the acrid smoke out of the way. With a stoic brush on his shoulder to remove the soot from the fire, he stole away into the shadows, prepared to find a shuttle to prepare his next strike.

For the hunter would not rest until his vengeance was complete.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"The assassins came for Kaidan," Shepard said calmly to Anderson as he stepped into the embassies once again, a grim expression on his face.

"Salu Karah?" Anderson said, a look of confusion on his face. A grim nod from Shepard confirmed his fears.

"But… why?" Shepard said. "I thought that they were attacking officials on New Canton."

"You've attracted their attention," Anderson said with a shake of his head. "They must have realized you were the one who foiled their last attack, and decided you were just as big of a threat."

"But why would they attack Kaidan?"

"They're trying to hurt you indirectly, by taking out your lieutenant, it would force you to readapt—buying them valuable time." The way Anderson said it, it felt as if he was speaking more from experience than anecdotal evidence.

"Does that mean…" Shepard said, concern worming its way into his mind.

"That means the rest of your squad is in danger too," Anderson said. "And they'll be in danger until you attack Salu Karah."

Shepard shook his head slowly. "But how are we going to attack them? You said earlier that even taking out the leader wouldn't slow them down."

"Belford and I had another plan," Anderson said, turning around to face the back of the embassies. "Sergeant Garter Frellock," he called out, and in response, a tall man wearing a suit of dark red combat armor which covered only his midsection and his shoulders, stood up from behind one the terminals at the desk.

Shepard blinked in surprise at how he had managed to miss the man when he had walked into the room. Between his wide shoulders, tall figure, and curly orange-colored hair which hung down to his shoulders, he wasn't exactly subtle. Scars across his hands and arms showed that he was a veteran, and the long bowie knife strapped across the small of his back told a tale of bloodshed that Shepard could easily relate to. For all the ferocity of the man's tall frame, his blue eyes seemed to twinkle with an understanding and compassion that did not seem befitting of his size.

"Commander Shepard," Garter said as he extended a large hand to Shepard. The man's voice had a strange accent that he hadn't heard before—he seemed to more strongly pronounce the "c"s and "r"s, making him sound almost unintelligent.

"Sergeant Frellock," Shepard said, shaking the man's hand with a tight grip.

"Sergeant Frellock is going to be taking command of Salu Karah," Anderson said with a smirk.

"How do you plan that?" Shepard asked.

"I've contacted a few information brokers," Anderson said. "Salu Karah is nothing like what we had come to expect from their shadowy reputation. Their headquarters—and also, their current leader—is on Erinle."

"Erinle," Shepard repeated. "So, you want me to kill the current leader…"

"A turian named Javlus," Anderson said.

"…And then put Frellock in charge?" Shepard finished, frowning slightly. "Doesn't that plan seem a little bit hopeful?"

"What do you mean, Shepard?" Anderson said with a curious look on his face.

"How do we know that they're going to follow Frellock, and that they're not just going to lynch him as soon as we lift off? Why don't we just throw down an airstrike on their facilities?"

"Their base of operations is right in the middle of a colony of six-thousand people—if we dropped a bomb, we'd kill more civilians than mercenaries." The man from Therum popped into Shepard's mind again—albeit briefly—before he slowly nodded.

"But why would they follow Frellock?" Shepard reiterated, pointing a hand to the man.

"Because he'll have the power," Anderson said. "If we get access to Javlus' control room, we'd be able to control all of Salu Karah's operations across the galaxy—and nobody would be the wiser. And nobody would be eager to rise up against Frellock after you take out the previous leader," he added with a slight smirk.

This plan felt odd—as if some essential piece of the puzzle was missing.

"There's… nothing else?" Shepard asked, slowly shaking his head.

"Nope," Anderson said, standing up straight and putting his hands behind his back. "But if you can pull this off, it'll cripple Saren's operations. It's bad enough that he has the geth on his side, but a century old assassin's cult? We can't have that," he said with a slight smile.

"I'll gather my crew and we'll make Erinle our number one priority," Shepard said as he turned around and prepared to head out the door.

"Not so fast," Frellock said as he extended a hand and put it on Shepard's shoulders.

"We're going to send you in a merchant freighter so that they don't suspect anything—it would be too obvious if we sent one of the Alliance's prize ships to Erinle."

With a slight nod, Shepard turned back around. "When do we leave?"

"In an hour," Anderson said. "Gather your crew—you'll probably want some fire support and maybe an engineer to hack Javlus' systems. Meet at docking bay M74."

"I'll arrange it," Shepard said, giving Anderson a salute as he stepped out the door, leaving them behind.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali was idly meandering the market district of the Citadel—the only place she really felt comfortable—not really for any purpose, idly glancing at the various wares and glowing billboards without any thoughts in her mind other than what had happened with Iroliseth.

She tried to push everything out of her mind as best as she could, but everything that had happened in the past few days just felt so out of place, as if she had suddenly been transported to a new world that simply didn't make sense.

But what did make sense was the market district—a little reprieve of the constant stress that Tali had been feeling. It reminded her of the Fleet—and the good parts of it, at least. She could flood her mind with happy memories of the occasional trips that she had made to the market districts, often with her mother in hand, rarely with her father in hand as well. At least she had a few memories to saturate her confused mind with.

Barely paying attention to what was in front of her, she stepped to the side to avoid a soldier in a black colored suit of armor jogging past her before she came to her senses and spun around.

"Shepard!" she called out, for no particular reason that existed in her mind.

Shepard stopped and turned for a brief moment, his eyes meeting Tali's for the slightest of instants before he diverted his gaze down away from her eyes—something that felt oddly painful. Shepard had never looked away from her—was it… disgust? Disappointment?

"Is there a problem?" she asked, looking into Shepard's troubled eyes, which seemed to always push her own worries to the back of her mind. Whatever she seemed to be fretting about, Shepard always seemed to be at the brink of collapsing or snapping under the stress that he constantly held within.

"I'm heading out," Shepard said. "There are assassins—stay on the Normandy," he said brusquely, as if he barely knew who he was talking to. "I'll be back in a few days."

"A few days?" Tali asked, but her words went unheard as Shepard quickly dashed away, leaving her behind, frowning behind her mask.

Tali sighed deeply, tilting her head to the side slightly as she watched Shepard disappearing into the crowds, occasionally appearing before he finally disappeared around a corner for good.

The tumult of emotions in Tali's mind right now was too much for even her logical thinking process to sort out—she couldn't tell where her regrets were coming from, where the sorrow had originated, and why she felt concerned. Pride mixed in with shame simultaneously, the strands of her thoughts so twisted and confused that all she knew was that Shepard was going to snap.

The revelation came as a surprise to Tali—she hadn't even thought of it that extensively prior to this moment. But everything added up—something wasn't right. The way he wouldn't match Tali's gaze, the unrelenting pain in his eyes, his rushed actions and speech—he was at his breaking point.

He had snapped before, on Therum and back on the MSV Fedele, but he had regained his composure fairly quickly—but after what happened on the Fedele, he had drastically changed.

_Why do I even care?_ Tali asked herself, uncertain where her distaste was coming from—did she dislike Shepard or was she still upset about her father? Or was it about Saleon? Argh, nothing made sense!

"I have to find Garrus," Tali quietly muttered to herself, jogging towards the C-Sec offices as quickly as she could.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"He'll be fine," Garrus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He's a soldier—you've seen him in action!"

"It's not that," Tali said, biting her lip slightly as she wondered whether or not to confide in her concerns about how Shepard seemed to be changing as of late. "It's just… he might need help," Tali said, trying not to be too specific.

"I doubt it," Garrus said, waving his hand again. "Besides," he said with a note of concern coming into his voice. "He's not going to be fighting geth."

"You don't think I know that, you bosh'tet?" Tali said with a bit of unintentional malice which was sprouting from her impatience with Garrus. She took a deep breath, calming herself—she knew that Garrus was only worried about her.

"I… just don't want Shepard to get hurt," Tali said, not wanting to match Garrus' judging gaze.

"Neither do I," he said, "And he won't get hurt," he reassured once more. "I told you, he's an expert—didn't you see him on the Fedele? He cut through those mercs as if they weren't even there!"

"He killed innocent people!" Tali shouted, her eyes pleading for Garrus' support. "You can't say that it was justified!"

"They were going to die anyways," Garrus said matter-of-factly.

"Garrus!" Tali pleaded. When he was unbending, Tali sighed again.

"Fine, if you don't have the guts to help Shepard, I'll do it alone," Tali said, angrily turning away from Garrus.

"I'm not scared," Garrus said with a chuckle. "He just doesn't need the help!"

"You said that us dextro's have to stick together!" Tali pleaded again, grasping at anything to try and convince Garrus to come along with her. He was the only other person who she trusted enough, and was capable of carrying a gun.

Garrus took a deep breath and gave a resigned sigh, standing up from on top of his desk as he slowly shook his head. "Fine," he said, with a tired looking smile barely visible on his face. "We'll follow Shepard," Garrus said. "Where is he?"

"Uhm…"

"You don't even know where he is?" Garrus admonished. "Tsk, tsk. You really need to finish your homework."

"Shut up," Tali retorted. "I still have my shotgun."

With a snort of laughter, Garrus put a hand on her shoulder. "So, what's the plan?"

"We'll go the embassies," Tali said definitively. "That's where Shepard always goes to get his missions—Anderson will tell us where he went! He knows me, after all."

"No offense or anything, Tali," Garrus said sarcastically, "But why would he tell either of us his confidential plans?"

"Well, I don't know," Tali said with a losing sigh. "Do you have a better plan?" She wasn't quick enough to cut herself off.

"I told you, Shepard's fine by himself—he probably took Kaidan or Ashley with him, anyways," Garrus said.

"They're both at the hospital," Tali said, having caught the broadcast from the Normandy on her omni-tool.

Garrus' eyes widened slightly before a smirk made its way onto his face. Seeing that Tali wasn't going to relent, he shook his head again with a roll of his eyes before he finally waved a hand at the door and followed Tali out.

Luckily for Tali, working in C-Sec gave Garrus a nearly innate knowledge of the structure of the Citadel, and before Tali even realized they had arrived, Garrus was already buzzing the front door of the human embassies. The metal door slid open and they were greeted by Anderson, standing stiffly with his hands behind his back.

"Yes?" he said, obviously recognizing the two of them. "I thought that Shepard would have taken you with him."

"That's what we're here for," Tali said, her shyness of the grandiose figure of Captain Anderson forgotten in her hurry. "It could be dangerous—but Shepard didn't bring anybody else with him."

Anderson frowned slightly. "He told me that he was going to assemble the ground team. I thought he would have needed some fire support or an engineer."

"Exactly," Tali said. "Where can we find him?"

"Docking bay M74," Anderson said. "They're leaving soon—you need to hurry."

"Thank you, Captain Anderson!" Tali shouted back at him as she began running—despite having no real idea where docking bay M74 was. Garrus quickly followed suit, leading her in the right direction.

"What's the plan now?" Garrus asked to Tali as they jogged through the crowds.

"We find Shepard and we join him," Tali said as if it were obvious. They spent the rest of the trip in relative silence, other than their panting from running.

After what felt like an eternity to Tali, who was terrified that Shepard would have been gone already, they finally arrived at the docking bay to find that the bay wasn't occupied by an Alliance cruiser or dreadnought, but instead, a weapons merchant frigate.

"We're too late," Tali said, dread in her voice.

"But this is the place," Garrus said. "That ship's been here for at least an hour—did Anderson give us the wrong number?"

Stepping onto the walkway which led to the airlock of the blocky looking freighter, Tali sighed a tall man with curly red hair who was wearing a white colored shawl over his head.

"Excuse me," she said. "Do you know where Commander Shepard is?"

The man gave her a dumb, empty look before he shrugged helplessly and shook his head. With a sigh of disappointment, Tali turned around and began to leave before Garrus grabbed her shoulder and pulled her close to him.

"Damnit, what are you doing?" Tali said as he struggled to pull away from Garrus, but he quieted her with a finger over his own mouth. Following his gaze, she watched a man dressed in a similar white shawl and long light brown overcoat, uncertain of what he was indicating. The man turned around, making his way towards the airlock of the freighter, when Tali saw him—it was Shepard.

"What's he doing?" Tali asked Garrus, but he only responded with a shrug. Perhaps it would have been prudent to ask Anderson what Shepard was planning on doing.

"It doesn't matter," Tali answered herself, instead quickly glancing around to try and find some way they could get onto the ship. Shepard had already stepped into the airlock, and the man with the curly red locks probably wasn't going to be helping her out any time soon. In a brief moment, Tali sighted a variety of cargo crates being loaded into the back of the freighter.

"Follow my lead," Tali said quietly to Garrus as she ran past the man with red hair and towards the open cargo bay. With a shake of his head, Garrus wondered where Tali's steel had come from.

"Excuse me," Tali said to one of the workers, a tanned human who was carrying a box of munitions. "I'm one of the engineers assigned to do a final check on the cargo bay before take off, may I go inside?"

The worker quickly scanned Tali, his eyes lingering at the obvious shotgun hanging at her hip before he put his box down on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest.

"And what are you checking, exactly?" the man said suspiciously.

"Just the shipments to make sure that the mass adjustment dynamics are properly calibrated," Tali said, hoping that her techy-sounding babble would convince the hopefully-uneducated worker that she was here for a legitimate reason.

"We don't let _quarians_ on here," the worker said coldly—but his cold glare quickly turned to surprise and terror as Garrus stepped beside Tali, his tall and stout frame ominously hanging over him as he held his long sniper rifle in his hands.

"I would recommend you treat Madame Zorah with a little bit more deference," Garrus said very threateningly. "I'm sure that the captain of this ship would be very disappointed to hear that the top engineer on the Citadel was turned down."

The worker quickly stepped backwards, nearly tripping over another box as he quickly nodded and walked away, turning his back to them as he fiddled around with another box.

With a thankful glance over to Garrus, Tali made her way into the cargo hold, which was empty save for the boxes piled high that filled most of the hold. Tali quickly made her way behind a few of the boxes, adjusting them in such a way that it would be difficult for anybody to see her without first readjusting the boxes.

"Thanks, Garrus," Tali said aloud, looking at the turian who merely shrugged.

"We're already here—no point in giving up now," he said with a slight grin. "Speaking of which… what the hell are we even doing?"

Tali laughed quietly, both at Garrus and herself for so "valiantly" chasing after Shepard.

"We're going to save Shepard," Tali said, more to herself than Garrus, who merely shook his head and chuckled.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I'd like to extend a thanks to all those who have been giving me reviews (in particular the anonymous reviewers, since I can't send a specific reply back). They're very helpful for a number of things-firstly, improving my self-esteem, and secondly, making sure that I'm not making too many mistakes. I very much appreciate all of the feedback that I've been given!

As well, I'd like to thank Azzorath, who I've mentioned a few times now, and I'll likely keep mentioning for some time to come due to his continued support and assistance.

Hopefully, I'll be able to keep writing these at the same click that I've been going for now. I've been busier as of late, and my schedule is likely only going to get busier as time goes on, but I'll do my best to keep these coming at the same rate that they are right now.

Until next time, have a good day/evening/night!


	21. The Demon

For the sake of preserving tone, I'm going to be putting this little blurb at the beginning of this chapter. So, as usual, I'd like to thank you all for reading and reviewing-it means a lot to me! This really is one of the prouder things that I've done-no matter the failings. So, if you see any mistakes that I'm making, definitely make sure to point it out so that way I can prevent the same mistakes in the future.

I'd like to thank Azzorath once again for helping proofread and look over my work with a critical eye.

Other than that, I don't believe there's anything else to mention this week! In the future, my release schedules might get a bit longer (hopefully no more than four days) but I'll try my best to keep up without degrading quality.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter (I hope)!

* * *

**:: Chapter Twenty One :: **The Demon **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Weary from what might have been ages,_

_Still calm with my mind at peace._

_Would I prosper or fall, drain the past,_

_The lapse of the moment took it's turn._

_I was foul and tainted, devoid of faith,_

_Wearing my death-mask at birth._

_The hands of God, decrepit and thin,_

_Cold caress and then nothing._

_Vows in ashes,_

_I pledge myself to no one_

_Seethed and spiteful,_

_I shudder at the call of my name._

_If you bear with me,_

_You'll fear of me._

_There is no forgiveness in these eyes_

_For any of you but one._

_-Opeth-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Landing in five minutes," a voice came in over the intercom, causing Shepard and Frellock to stir from their thoughts—and in Frellock's case, his slumber—and glance over at each other momentarily.

"Ready?" Frellock asked Shepard, to which he nodded grimly. There wasn't much to be ready for—nearly everything had been taken care of for them. All he had to do was sit along for the ride and kill a couple of mercs once they arrived.

"We're going to get off the freighter and onto one of the Rhinos," Frellock explained for at least the third time since they had set off from the Citadel. "Then once we're in the Rhino, we set of for the Salu Karah encampment. They'll let us in because they're expecting a weapons shipment. Then, once we're in, we take down Javlus!" He ended with a wide grin on his face, despite Shepard's lack of response. Apparently, the man enjoyed talking to himself.

They spent the next few minutes in silence, Shepard sitting uncomfortably close to the beaming Frellock—who Shepard had very many doubts about. Despite his initial impression that there was more to the man than he had first thought, empirical evidence was proving that there really wasn't much he couldn't see from the moment he first met him. Frellock seemed to be a very simple man, more akin to a dumb mercenary than the enigmatic leader of a band of mercenaries. Anderson had chosen him, however, and Shepard trusted Anderson's judgement.

After all, Anderson had chosen Shepard as well.

As their freighter finally shifted into place, landing down on Erinle, Shepard stood up, relishing the opportunity to stretch his legs and his back, taking simple satisfaction from the few pops as his vertebrae snapped into place. With a roll of his head, he stepped through the door on the side of the cabin they were staying in, and opened the interior airlock door which would lead them to their transport vehicles.

As the exterior door, Shepard raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light streaming in and shining off the sandy ground, giving himself a few moments for his eyes to adjust. Taking a deep breath of the arid, hot air, he felt his throat dry out in moments under the watchful gaze of the large star which provided heat to this desert.

Frellock, however, merely jumped out of the airlock, spreading his arms wide as he soaked up the sunlight.

"Is it not beautiful?" Frellock said, glancing over at Shepard, who merely ignored him and continued plodding onwards, heading to where a couple of workers were busy unloading crates out of the cargo hold.

As Shepard approached them, one of the men stopped and lowered his box to the ground, silently pointing to the Rhino behind them—a cube shaped, tough looking vehicle which appeared extremely sparse. It was grey and had little in the way of either design or identification, only having a small orange stamp on the door to identify the company that was sending the shipment. Sliding the door open, Shepard stepped into the cramped vehicle, which only had seats for four people behind the large, bulletproof glass windows.

Frellock quickly slipped in beside him, closing the exterior door as he slid into the driver's seat.

"You don't want to drive?" Frellock asked as he gestured to the steering wheel.

"Nope," Shepard said simply. He never liked driving.

Frellock and Shepard leaned back in their hard chairs, waiting for the workers to finish loading the boxes filled with weapons into the cargo hold in the back of the Rhino. They had also stealthily thrown a small box into the back seat, as well—one that contained Shepard's standard shotgun, Frellock's assault rifle, and one sniper rifle. Shepard carried a pistol on his hip, buried beneath the loose-fitting brown cloak he wore to cover up his black suit of armor underneath, but having his shotgun back in his hands would give him a bit more confidence, if nothing else. In any case, he was never without his cloaking module or his trusty combat knife.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Damn, what do we do now?" Tali said to Garrus as she tried her best to worm her way into the darkest corner of the cargo hold as their fort of boxes was slowly being torn away by the workers. What would they do when they were revealed?"

"Don't worry," Garrus said calmly. "I see Shepard—he's getting into that big vehicle over there," he said, doing his best to gesture between the cracks of the boxes. Tali quickly scooted over, pushing Garrus out of the way as she did her best to put an eye to the crack.

"We have to get out—where are the workers?" she asked.

"They're outside, organizing the boxes," Garrus said. "Do you think we can slip out unnoticed?"

"Maybe," Tali said, pulling her shotgun from her hip and slowly making her way to the door of the cargo hold, making an attempt to be very quiet. Garrus looked at the shotgun in her hands, confused and somewhat concerned at what she was planning on doing.

Tali quickly dashed out of the cargo hold, running towards the doors that were still opened wide on the back of the vehicle that Shepard was in. Tali quickly jumped in, looking around to make sure there were no witnesses before she rapidly gestured for Garrus to do the same. Sighing, Garrus followed her path, though his larger frame and heavy armor made it considerably more difficult for him to make it unseen.

As he approached the back of the cargo hold, he was suddenly face to face with one of the tan-skinned workers, staring at Garrus with wide eyes, unblinking. Sighing, Garrus slipping a credit chit out of his pocket and handed it to the man as he stepped into the back of the cargo bay, putting a finger over his mouth, hoping that the man would stay silent. With a shrug, the worker closed the doors behind them, leaving them bathed in the darkness of the cargo hold.

"You're sure this is where Shepard is?" Tali asked, suddenly fearing that they had boarded the wrong vehicle—since there were another two nearly identical vehicles next to this one.

"I'm certain," Garrus said. "I saw him get in!"

"You better hope you're right," Tali said, slowly shaking her head.

After a few moments of silence in the dark, Tali pulled up her omni-tool and begin tapping on it, the soft orange glow providing some illumination.

"What are you doing?" Garrus asked after a few moments, unable to discern what she was trying to accomplish through the lines of code flicking through the screen.

"Hacking," she said simply, continuing to tap on her omni-tool as Garrus shrugged to himself. After a few moments, she quietly exclaimed in satisfaction, moving her wrist over so that Garrus could see the projected hologram more easily. Above her wrist hovered five different scenes—presumably of the landscape outside. There seemed to be a camera pointed in every direction—two of the screens showed vehicles identical to the one they were in, one showed the bleak desert in front of them, and the other showed a couple of workers milling about in front of the cargo hold of the freighter.

The final fifth screen showed an image of the front cabin of the vehicle, Shepard and the same red-haired man sitting in the two front chairs, idly leaning back as they presumably awaited clearance to leave. Tali noted this with a sigh of relief—at least Garrus' perception hadn't been off.

"Told you so," Garrus said, which elicited a shove from Tali.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shall we push off?" Frellock said, leaning forward in his chair. With a silent nod, Frellock grasped onto the wheel at the front of the vehicle and began accelerating away, leaving the freighter behind.

From here, it was a straightforward path to the Salu Karah base—they received weapons shipments once every month, so it was unlikely they would be restricted. They would need to go by land, however—an airdrop would be too out of the ordinary for them to simply ignore.

Glancing back at the seats behind him, Shepard took solace in the twenty-pound rectangle which was sitting beside the weapons box. That little rectangle would prove to be useful when he blew Salu Karah's encampment sky high.

Frellock wasn't going to be able to take control of the band—what Anderson was thinking was beyond him. The man simply didn't show any of the steel that a cold, hardened mercenary should have had.

They continued to drive in silence, Shepard keeping his gaze set forward for the most part, observing the dingy shacks that they drove past as they travelled on the dirt road which had been worn down by the tracks of vehicles over time.

The whole colony looked as if it were in dire straits—most of the shacks were tinged red with rust, and often were torn or dented in multiple places. Even the mining shacks on Therum hadn't suffered this kind of mistreatment.

In between the tattered sheets of metal, the glassy eyes of colonists could occasionally be seen peeking out at the loud vehicle driving past their houses. A few children dashed about in the streets, dirty-clothed and malnourished, before running to the relative security of their homes as they felt the ground rumbling beneath them.

It wasn't the first time they had seen one these trucks passing by before—Shepard could tell by the way that some of the colonists stared longingly at the heavy metal truck, loading with valuables beyond their wildest dreams.

Shepard sighed slightly, looking at the impoverished people of the planet. Shepard found a small piece of pity in the back of his mind for the children swimming in the sand.

"Sad, isn't it?" Frellock said, jolting Shepard away from his thoughts.

"Yeah," Shepard said quietly, looking at a couple sitting at the side of a hovel, holding onto their son lovingly.

"Got any family?" Frellock said, noticing where his gaze was heading to. Glancing over at the red-haired man in surprise, he shook his head.

"Lost them a long time ago, Shepard?" Frellock said with a sigh.

Shepard paused for a moment. "How did you know?"

"I'm not as dumb as you think," he said with a chuckle. Shepard raised an eyebrow and looked out the side window.

"How about close friends? None of those, either?" Frellock asked.

"No," Shepard said. Despite the man's apparently perceptiveness, he still wasn't in the mood for talking.

"I've got a wife and two kids back on the Citadel—a daughter and a son. Gives me something to look forward to at the end of every mission," Frellock said absentmindedly. "It gives me something to fight for."

"What about it?" Shepard said dismissively.

"What do you fight for?"

Shepard bit his lip as he considered the question for himself.

What did he fight for? Was it galactic peace? To stop Saren? To stop criminals? Vengeance for what he lost? To stop what happened to him from ever happening again?

"I fight for peace," Shepard said, being purposefully vague. To fill the hole in his heart—to again find the blood of his fellow companions who were taken away from him.

"Then it is a valiant fight," Frellock said. "Stick to your guns, no matter what, Commander. Never give up hope—for when we give up hope, we will never win."

Shepard sighed, doing his best to push the man's words out of his head. After all, Frellock was just some silly, overtalkative man that Anderson had forced Shepard to take along for the ride.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Garrus…" Tali said, trailing off as she tapped on her omni-tool a few times. "Listen to this."

A voice projected into the small dark cargo hold of the vehicle.

"…Jaime, we can't do that!"

"What else are we supposed to do? What about Marie?"

"I don't know… there has to be another way!"

Jaime sighed audibly. "Look, just plant the mines—if we don't do this, Marie is going to… to die…"

"Didn't you talk to Rickard? Won't he give you the medicine?"

"He can't—it's too risky. He's being watched now, and they're sending him off—they know something up."

"But what are you even going to do with a truck full of guns?"

"We… we can sell them—I'm sure that someone will buy them."

"Who, Salu Karah? They'll string you up when they find out you took them!"

"Then we'll find someone else!" Jaime shouted indignantly. "We don't have a choice, Jason… we can't just let Marie die. Not after everything she did for us."

"I know, but…"

"But we're her only hope. Didn't you see what happened to Kevin?"

"I don't even want to think about it," Jason said regretfully.

"And that's what's going to happen to Marie if we don't get the damn medicine…"

"Fine, fine!" Jason shouted. "I'll do it—but I'm not responsible for the blood on your hands!"

"I never asked for you to be responsible," Jaime said sadly. "I only ask that you be there for Marie if I don't make it."

"Don't say that!" Jason shouted. "We're all going to get out of here!"

Jaime chuckled quietly. "I hope so… maybe if we sell the guns, we can get a shuttle and get the hell out of here. Maybe we can stow away onto one of those cargo ships that land every month."

"Maybe," Jason agreed hopefully.

There was a pause in the conversation for a minute as Tali and Garrus nervously looked at each other in the back of the cargo bay.

"You… you don't think," Tali began.

"I think we're the only vehicle on this god-forsaken planet," Garrus said, having seen the disparate images that Tali had hacked into from the exterior cameras.

"But… if they're going to attack us, shouldn't we warn—"

"They're all set, Jaime," the voice said again from Tali's omni-tool. "I'm getting the hell out of here—are you ready with Francis?"

"Affirmative," was Jaime's only response.

"Tali—we need to warn Shepard!"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard, do you see—" Frellock began to say, narrowing his eyes at a small grey colored box contrasting against the sandy surface of the road. The vehicle slowed to a stop as Frellock stopped in front of it, leaning forward in his chair to observe the package.

"Drive!" Shepard shouted, realizing the box for what it was. Frellock quickly took the hint, slamming his foot heavily into the pedal and turning the wheel as quickly as he could, but it was too late.

For the briefest of moments, Shepard felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds as the nose of the vehicle was fired into the air from the force of the blast, tossing the front of the Rhino backwards as the entire vehicle rolled over from end to end, before heavily thudding onto the ground, upside down with the nose end filled with shrapnel and debris.

Shepard opened his eyes, his lungs burning from the taste of the smoke and sand that was thrown into the air from the explosion, as well as from the intense wave of heat that blew past him and burned his skin. The entire front windshield had been shattered by the blast, rectangular pieces of glass thrown across the entire main cabin of the vehicle and covering Shepard in miniscule scrapes and cuts that made him feel as if his blood was simply pouring out of his skin.

With a grit of his teeth and a grunt, he detached himself from the belt tied around his hip and roughly dropped himself to the floor—or rather, the roof—as he grasped onto the shotgun which had been jolted around the entire cabin with one hand, and onto the heavy bomb with the other. With a glance at Frellock—who was similarly covered in miniscule scars, but his head lolled at an unnatural angle—he kicked open the side door of the Rhino, stepping out with a look of rage of his face that would have deterred any ordinary aggressor.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The explosion had been no less painful for Garrus and Tali in the cargo bay. Unrestricted by safety belts of any kind, they had been violently tossed about the cabin, along with the heavy weapons crates which had struck Tali hard enough to shove the air out of her chest, before the entire vehicle finally came to a stop with Garrus situated underneath a pair of boxes as Tali tried to regain her breath from near the top of the pile.

"Damnit," Garrus said with strained breath from underneath the pile as he tried his best to push the heavy boxes off his chest. Tali, quickly noticing her partner's predicament, pushed the boxes off of him, lifting him to his knees as he ran a hand across his head.

"Are you ok?" Tali asked, looking at the turian's leg which was bent at a disturbingly wide angle.

"I'm fine," Garrus said through gritted teeth as he tried to lift himself up on his wounded leg, leaning heavily on the boxes to his side as he stood up.

"Shepard!" Tali suddenly shouted, almost dropping Garrus to the ground as she spun around and rapidly slid open the cargo bay door, which had been dented by the boxes being thrown around, but was easy enough to open with a little bit of effort. Dashing out of the vehicle, with no regard for her own safety or the possibility of bandits in the area, she sighed a pair of men walking closer in the distance, each armed with rifles. Despite being equipped, they held their rifles down at their sides with an air of incompetence that showed they likely hadn't used them before.

Then she sighted him—like a demon from hell, Shepard kicked the door on the side of the vehicle wide open, small pieces of glass flying out from inside the cabin and from Shepard's shoulders as he marched out of the vehicle, blood running down the side of his head and from so many small cuts across his face, hefting his shotgun easily in one hand while he carried a small case in the other.

Tali quickly glanced back at the two men who approached with assault rifles—was this Jaime and Francis? They were coming fast, and despite the demonic sight of Shepard stepping from the smoky ruins of the vehicle, they had not yet raised their weapons, instead choosing to stare at the soldier in horror.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard sighted his two targets in the distance—two men armed with rifles. Were they the ones behind the attack? Were they trying to help him?

It didn't matter. They could all die.

Shepard tossed his shotgun into the air, grabbing it by the trigger as he lowered it and aimed it at the first man, nothing other than the burning pain across his face and the impulsive anger in his mind moving his hands.

Unarmored. Poorly equipped. They would likely die with the first bullet.

"Stop!" came a shout from behind him—not Frellock's odd accent, but another one, with another voice behind it. A voice that nearly tripped Shepard and put a pause to his pull of the trigger.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Stop!" Tali shouted again, seeing that the two men approaching them had not yet even raised their weapons to attack. If they were indeed Jaime and Francis, they wouldn't attack them unless they needed to.

Shepard paused mid-stride, almost seeming to stumble over himself as he lowered his shotgun as the coldness Tali had seen in his features seemed to soften for a moment as he turned his head to look at Tali.

"What are you doing here?" Shepard said quietly, though loud enough for her to hear.

"To help you," Tali said simply.

The two men approached them, now lifting their rifles at Tali and Shepard, but even Tali could tell that they were very inexperienced.

"Don't move!" the first man shouted.

"We don't want to hurt you," the second man said—the man whose voice matched Jaime's.

"We only need your weapons," Francis said. "Hand them over and nobody else will get hurt."

Tali glanced at Shepard, who still held that strange grey box in his hand and the shotgun in the other. His hands had tightened on his shotgun, and every muscle in his body seemed to tense as he prepared to pounce.

"Of course," Tali said, watching Shepard out of the corner of her eyes to make sure he didn't simply attack them. "You need medicine for Marie, right?"

Both of their eyes widened as they regarded the quarian. "What?"

"Is Marie ill?" Tali said calmly, ignoring their surprised expressions. They were silent for a moment, before Jaime stepped forward, lowering his rifle slightly.

"Marie has Crocodile Flu," Jaime said, biting a lip.

"Crocodile flu?" Tali said, uncertain of what he meant.

"Don't know what it's really called," Francis said somewhat sheepishly. "But they start with headaches and coughs, and then their skin starts scaling over—that's why we call it crocodile flu. The only way to treat it is with medicine—but Salu Karah won't sell any of theirs."

"Why does Salu Karah have all the medicine?" Tali said, noting the way that the two men were lowering their rifles—and also Shepard's loosening grip on his shotgun.

"They control everything around here," Jaime said helplessly. "They sell us our food, our clothing, and they make us give them half of everything we can find or scavenge every month, otherwise they shoot us. They control every single space craft that comes in—so nobody can get out."

"Robbie tried to escape a few months ago," Francis said with a distant look in his eyes.

"Some Karah grunt found him and hung him on a flagpole," Jaime said. "They left him there to starve to death—and wouldn't let nobody else touch him, else they shot them."

"Why don't you fight back?" Tali said, amazed that nobody had tried to put down their cruel overlords.

"We can't," Jaime said helplessly. "These are the only weapons that we have," Jaime said as he shook his rifle in the air. "And if any Karah grunts find us talking together…"

"Kill 'em all," Francis finished ominously.

"Shepard is here to get rid of Salu Karah," Tali said, pointing over at Shepard, who hadn't said a word during their entire exchange. "Right… Shepard?" she said, almost pleadingly. That was what she suspected, based on their current relation with the mercenary band.

"We were going to kill Javlus, the leader of Salu Karah, and put Frellock in charge," he said in a monotone as he pointed a thumb back at the ruins of their vehicle. "Not happening now."

Jaime and Francis looked over each other briefly, fear in their eyes as they remembered they had just attacked the two people in front of them—and both of them had shotguns. The easy way that Shepard swung his shotgun on his hand told them that they wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to fight these two.

"Mighty sorry," Francis said quietly, as he turned his eyes down to the ground. "Didn't want to do it—just needed to get medicine for Marie."

"Come here," Tali said, gesturing to the back of the vehicle—where Garrus was standing, leaning heavily against the side of the truck. Jaime and Francis gave a slight start at seeing the man with a long rifle at his side, realizing that they never had any chance of succeeding with their pillage.

"You can take all of these," Tali said as she gestured at the battered weapons crates that filled most of the cargo hold. A couple of them had been split open, revealing a variety of weapons—assault rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, and a few handguns—all painted jet black. As the two men came around the corner, their eyes widened at how many weapons there were in the back of the vehicle.

"Dear god," Jaime said. "If we could sell even two of these…"

"Could pay for all of Marie's treatment!" Francis said with a toothless grin. The two men looked over at each other, wide smiles on their face as they looked at the expanse of weapons before them.

"You can take them all," Tali said. "They're no use to us, anyways."

The two men began rummaging through the boxes as Garrus tapped Tali on the shoulder.

"So… what exactly happened?" Garrus whispered to Tali, with a lopsided smirk on his face. Tali merely smiled back at him, glad that Shepard hadn't simply executed these two men on the spot.

She had finally done something right, at least. She had been given a chance to make the lives of these desolate colonists a little bit better, and she had been able to do that. A little bit of good would go a long way to balancing out the evils she had seen as of late.

Speaking of evils, how was Shepard doing? Would he be happy as well?

"Shepard?" Tali said, stepping around the corner of the vehicle and glancing both ways to see where the grim man had gone. She frowned slightly, as he was nowhere to be found.

"Shepard!" she called again, glancing inside of the ruined vehicle. All that was to be found was a lone pistol on the ground, and the same red-haired man hanging upside down from the ceiling, his neck caught on the seat and bent backwards awkwardly. With a grimace, she turned away from the sight and looked down the road—but he was nowhere to be seen.

Tali's eyes widened as she realized what must have happened—he must have went off by himself.

Damnit, what was wrong with him?

Tali ran around the vehicle, quickly grabbing Jaime's shoulder and shaking him, to his terror.

"Where is the Salu Karah encampment?" she said, speaking quickly.

"It's twenty minutes that way!" he said, pointing a bit towards the right of the road ahead.

Without a word, Tali dashed away from the vehicle, running as quickly as her legs would take her towards what she hoped was the encampment, leaving Garrus standing idly by, initially trying to limp after her, but realizing it was an exercise in futility, standing in the middle of the road, leaning heavily on his long rifle.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard disengaged his cloaking module, believing that he was far enough away from the ruins of the Rhino that Tali or Garrus wouldn't be able to track him. Neither of them needed to be with him for what he planned on doing.

Shepard had no intention of going quietly—there was no point in that. He carried an assault rifle on his hip, two pistols clipped side by side on the other side of his hip, his trusty shotgun on the small of his back, and a sniper rifle across his shoulders. The weight felt crippling to his burdened shoulders, but he wasn't going to let something as simple as a little bit of pain stop him.

The Salu Karah encampment looked similar to a military prison—it was a large, rectangular shaped encampment with four tall towers at each corner, and a ten-foot high chain link fence closing off all the borders. Throughout the compound were a variety of scattered buildings of varying heights and sizes, though which one held Javlus was unknown to him.

It also didn't matter, since he was carrying a bomb under his left arm.

Shepard re-engaged his cloaking module, sliding down the hill he stood on as he approached the side of the encampment. Disabling his module, he flicked his knife out of its sheath and easily cut a hole through the chain link fence, the well-tempered steel of his blade easily splitting the metal. Shepard tossed the bomb down at the base of a nearby building, as the explosive would more likely than not take out most of the camp. Tapping on his omni-tool a few times, he set the bomb for a five minute timer, so that way he'd be able to get out of the way easily enough.

With a growl of frustration, his shook his head and kicked the inert bomb angrily. The crashed had apparently damaged the detonator mechanism inside of the grey box—it was useless to him now.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Pavell meandered his way across the Salu Karah main encampment, as he often did at this time of the day. When the sun was high in the sky, he enjoyed taking little strolls across the main courtyard—simply revelling in the feel of the sun against his uncovered head.

He'd be heading out later tonight—Javlus was sending him along with another couple of the men to shake down some of the colonists for whatever they could cough up. They always seemed to scrounge together a couple of pennies from some unknown place—and they were already ready to pay.

Pavell laughed quietly to himself as he rested an arm on the familiar assault rifle which hung from his hip. He frowned slightly, as he realized that his rifle wasn't there. Odd, he was sure that he had put it on a few minutes ago!

Was he forgetting something? Or was his memory simply degrading already?

With a chuckle at his own forgetfulness, he found his assault rifle—with the barrel trained to the spot in between his eyes. A man wearing a suit of scarred black armor stood before him—where had he even come from?

"Where's Javlus?" the man said threateningly.

"Who are you?" Pavell said, trying to keep the terror out of his voice.

"Where's Javlus?" the man said again, shoving the barrel of the rifle roughly into his face.

"In that building, over there!" Pavell said hurriedly, pointing to one of the taller, cleaner looking buildings in the encampment.

"Many thanks," the man said, lowering the rifle and backing away from Pavell, letting him nurse his bruised forehead.

Then he lifted the rifle again and shot him in the throat.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard drifted through the Salu Karah's sandy courtyard as if he were in a trance—freely floating, barely conscious of his own actions and motions. As if he were a silent spectator to the ominous predator slowly lurking his way to Javlus' main quarters, carrying a rifle in his hands and strapped with enough weapon to arm six different men.

It was growing inside of him—the spirit of vengeance, of cruelty, of rage. It would not sleep until he could drink of the blood which he thirsted for daily. He needed death—he _craved_ it. For his blade would not rest until the galaxy bled red.

Shepard had foolishly held back his impulses—he had foolishly told himself that he was a different man, a man capable of compassion and kindness and caring, but the demon that filled every crevice of his being knew better than that.

Shepard was a demon. A hellish fiend roughly shoved into the frame of mankind, created for the sole purpose of bringing those around him to their knees.

Through the red lens of rage, everything felt so clear to him.

On Akuze, as he stepped over the bloodied bodies of his dearest companions, the demon had taken hold of him. Grasped onto him like a parasite, feeding on his deepest desires and dreams, feeding on his hope, his happiness, and filling him with an emptiness that could not be quelled with anything but the blood of his victims.

And Shepard had foolishly tried to hide it—he had tried to resist! But now, the demon was free. And the demon would drink upon the fountains of blood—the mercenaries in this compound would only be the first. Then the rest of the planet—the whole star cluster would fall to the demon inside of him.

For he would never satiate his thirst.

And he would save those that Shepard had held dearest to him for last, as a cruel joke on the ruined soul of the man who tried to resist. The bitter blood of the turian, the biotic's warm blood, the soldier's hateful blood…

And the quarian's warm, sweet, sickly intoxicating blood.

He had been so close on that day that the quarian and Shepard had met in their room—when he had subtly convinced Shepard that she would cherish a knife above all else. It was not Shepard that ran the foul game, but the demon in his mind.

A single flick of Shepard's wrist would bring his adoration to it's knees.

But Shepard had held strong—holding fast to his will, crumbling within him. His own stubborn refusal of the past sealed his own fate—Shepard was losing his own conscience, his own control, the will to carry on.

A perfect victim for the demon to inhabit.

The demon stepped forward, uncaring of the consequences. He didn't care whether anybody heard of his loud arrival, or if anybody saw the pools of blood he left behind him. It would bring more victims to his table, more victims to bring to their knees.

The demon fired his rifle into the air, a cruel smile forming on his dry lips as he licked them in anticipation of the grand feast he was about to plunge himself into.

He kicked open the front door of the building that the last man had so willingly given up to him, revealing a pair of turians idly standing by, leaning on table on opposite ends of the room. Before they could even lift the rifles off their hips, the demon raised his rifle and gunned both of the men down, filling them with holes and spilling their precious blue blood across the floor as the life left their eyes. But the demon did not stop.

He stepped down the stairs to his right, revelling in the hurried shouts and screams coming from the floors below him, as he descended deeper into the basement—deeper into his own mad celebration.

A trio of men ran forward to stop him, their brilliant white armor shining for a few moments until his rifle fired almost of it's own accord, riddling their shining armor with bullet holes and staining the white with red as they each fell to the ground, blood pouring from their wounded chests. But the demon did not stop.

As he stood in the middle of the room, more men continued to pour in, trying to stop him. First two humans, then another three turians, and a batarian—each of them desperately trying to stop the hellish fiend, dried blood covering his face, wearing broken and battered armor with scrapes and scars that couldn't even begin to match the ones upon his face.

And each of them fell, one by one. As the demon's rifle refused to fire, he cast it to the ground, a useless tool of destruction, and lifted his twin pistols off his hip, smiling cruelly as he watched the meager weapons slicing through the skin of the mercenaries as if it were paper. Tossing those to the side as well, he stepped over the corpses piled atop the stairway, blood flowing down the stairs like a grand waterfall as the splash of his footsteps filled the desolate silence.

A batarian in a thick suit of white armor stood stiffly at the far side of the room, waiting for the demon to arrive, but unprepared for what he met. With his rifle trained at the stairway, he unloaded his bullets into the demon's chest, and grunted with satisfaction as he watched the demon's shield's flare bright blue as they shattered, the bullets punching through the thin armor, but the demon merely smiled his cruel smile, unfeeling of the pain in this mortal vessel.

In a smooth movement, the long rifle lifted off his back and he swung it to face the batarian without even bothering to look down the sights. Before the batarian could comprehend the evil that he looked in the eyes, a searing hole was burned through the middle of his forehead.

"Shepard!" a turian shouted angrily, stepping out of the adjacent room with a large shotgun in his hands.

Perhaps if he had been fighting Shepard, he would have had a chance.

Tossing his rifle to the side, the demon lifted his shotgun off his back—the same shotgun which Shepard had so cherished in life—and pointed it at the turian, firing a shot, and then another, and a third, watching as the man's shields and armor absorbed the harsh recoil of the bullets in his hands. All the while, the turian continued to fire at the demon, trying to stop the bleeding, broken, tattered beast in front of him. A scatter of bullets sliced through his stomach, splitting wide a wound that the medi-gel wouldn't seal, and another slid through his leg as the turian rapidly backed up in panic. But the demon didn't feel pain.

The demon unloaded a final shot into the turian's forehead, splitting his rocky skull open wide as the innards of his head spilled over the room. With a wide grin, the demon stepped atop the skull of his victim, revelling in the crunch of bone and cartilage.

But the demon wasn't finished yet—there was a whole planet filled with futile lives only waiting to be extinguished. Before him stood a vast vault, filled to the brim with massive tube shaped explosives—a massive storage of nuclear warheads. He could detonate them all, bringing the entire planet to it's knees under a hail of acrid smoke and death.

And the demon smiled.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali dashed into the Salu Karah compound, not even bothering to look around to make sure that no agressors were present. Five bodies already lied on the ground outside, each drowning in their own blood, leading to the equally bloody entrance of a nearby building.

"Damnit," Tali said to herself. Every single man lying on the ground was well armed—each one of them could have easily hurt Shepard.

She could only hope that he was still alive.

She ran through the open door of a building, ignoring the bloody fingerprints on the doorframe, and ignoring the dead bodies of two turians lying on the ground. Pushing it all out of her mind, she dashed down the stairs, determined to find Shepard, until she came to a stop at the massive pool of blood on the floor below.

At least seven different corpses littered the floor here—each one horribly disfigured and mutilated from the bullets that had punched through their skin. The entire floor was coated with sticky blood—some red, some blue, all mixing together in a terrible tableau of death. With a grimace, Tali lifted her shotgun off her back and stepped through the blood, trying her best to ignore the squelching sounds it made.

She ran downstairs, gripping tightly onto her shotgun for support as she sighed another victim—a heavily armored batarian with a single hole through his forehead. More foreboding was the trail of blood from the bottom of the stairs leading into the next room—a trail that wasn't there before.

Stepping into the next room, terrified of seeing Shepard's possibly shattered and broken body lying on the floor, she bit her lip and avoided the impulse to vomit as she saw a turian's face squeezed onto the ground, pieces of his skull and his brain spread across the floor. Looking away from the gruesome sight, Tali saw something even worse—Shepard's shotgun, lying on the ground.

"Keelah," Tali said breathlessly, almost dropping her own shotgun as her hands shook. She turned to look in the next room, her shotgun ready in case she encountered the men who took Shepard's life.

"Shepard!" she shouted, as she caught sight of the man who she was searching for—coated from head to toe in blood, and dripping far too quickly for it to be somebody else's blood.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard!" came the call, jolting the demon from his vicious reveries of destruction and torment. He turned around, catching sight of the quarian who Shepard so cared for.

The demon merely stood still, tightly holding his knife in his right hand as he watched the quarian, blood splashed up her legs, as she stepped forwards, quickly at first, but then more slowly as she saw the demon's black eyes.

"Shepard," the quarian said, firmly but uncertainly.

The demon smiled a toothy grin at the quarian. The sole witness to his own plans of madness.

"You're just in time," the demon said in a voice that visibly put a damper to the quarian's step and seemed to make the blood drain from her face. "The show is just about to begin."

The demon turned around, tapping on a terminal at the back side of the wall.

_Five minutes until detonation,_ an artificial voice said over the intercom.

Five minutes until two hundred tons of nuclear explosives were detonated.

"Shepard!" the quarian said more urgently, the terror in her voice feeding the demon's sadistic desire for suffering. He turned to face her—the terror-stricken quarian looking at Shepard with those baleful, horrible eyes.

Dead, horrible eyes.

Eyes that Shepard had killed.

The demon growled unconsciously, gritting his teeth as he clenched onto the knife at his side more tightly.

"Shepard," Tali said, as she dropped her shotgun on the ground beside her.

Shepard.

Tali took a step forward, slowly at first, as she looked into the demon's eyes.

Shepard.

She was close now—close enough to reach out and touch the demon—no, not the demon.

Shepard.

"No!" the demon suddenly shouted, anger and rage manifesting itself in the cruelest insult possible as he lifted his left hand abruptly, gripping the quarian's throat as he lifted her off the ground, the final sacrifice before this entire facility crumbled to the ground.

With an inhuman strength, he slowly clenched his fist tighter as the demon looked into the quarian's eyes, drowning, dying, being swallowed up by the demon's hatred and rage.

Tali's eyes, brimming with shining, sparkling innocence.

"No!" Shepard shouted, his own eyes suddenly filling with terror as he desperately tried to unclench his hand from Tali's throat—unable to tear his gaze away from Tali's beautiful, innocent eyes as the life was slowly strangled from them.

"Shepard…" Tali said quietly, barely able to squeeze breath through her lips.

Shepard shut his eyes tightly, unable to control his own motions any longer. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes as he stole the life from her.

And he swung his right hand, the cruel knife flashing out in front of Tali as Shepard's wrist was suddenly split open, his tendons splitting as his fingers suddenly loosened, dropping Tali to the floor in a gasping heap, tears unconsciously flowing from her eyes.

And Shepard fell backwards, his sight filled with inky blackness.


	22. Spring

**:: Chapter Twenty Two :: **Spring **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

It was my arrogance, my hate,

My unwillingness to see

That stole the light from her eyes

And stole my life from me.

It was her that brought me back,

From the coldness of the grave.

The warm outstretched hand

Which burned away the haze.

For the great cold desolation,

And Death's resounding ring

Have no influence

When you can see the spring.

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Shepard," Tali's gentle voice said, a melody of the sweetest choir of instruments and sounds.

Shepard opened his eyes slowly, his eyes burning at the bright light shining from above him, the magnificent white sun illuminating all that was around him.

Shepard sat up slowly, gritting through the pain that resounded throughout his whole body, ignoring the cold pain within his bones.

"Rest," Tali commanded, in the same beautiful voice, the same gentle inflections that had become so familiar to him.

Shepard laid down once more, letting every muscle in his body softly relax as he tilted his head to the side and watched the lilies in the grass swaying in the calm wind beside him, their elegant dance uninhibited by the evils in the galaxy.

A soft finger ran across the side of his face, cool to the touch yet feeling so unbelievably warm. Shepard turned his head to the other side, looking into Tali's beautiful eyes as she sat beside him atop the grass, her legs crossed as she nursed Shepard with a content look in her eyes.

"Tali…" Shepard began to say, ignoring the pain in his lungs. Tali interrupted him, putting a finger over his lips as she gave him a gaze that told him she understood everything.

A single tear flowed down Shepard's cheek as he tried to hold back from sobbing, to avoid the pain in his chest.

They stayed like that for a long time—an eternity, perhaps. Tali's gentle hand resting across Shepard's face, softly running across the many scars he had amassed in his short career, the warmth from her fingertips seeming to drive the pain away as if it hadn't ever existed in the first place.

Shepard gently grasped onto Tali's hand—holding on tightly, but not roughly, for he feared that if he were to let go, everything would simply vanish in a moment. He gazed into her brilliant eyes, silvery sparkles through the purple haze of her glass, yet still so magnificent and wondrous despite the mask. Eyes that brimmed full of the purest life, of innocence not yet dead, of compassion, caring, empathy, understanding, selflessness—everything that Shepard had thought was dead in the galaxy. Everything that Shepard had sacrificed to the demon within him.

Shepard felt the coldness in his bones melt away just as the cold snows dissipated underneath the warmth of the spring-time sun. As Shepard and Tali lied, side by side on the warm green grass, Shepard closed his eyes, breathing her soft scent, like gentle lavender and lilies mixed with the metal and grease which were her trade, gently caressing her hands, trying to stop the tears flowing from his eyes.

"Goodbye," Tali suddenly whispered in his ear, as she pulled herself away from his longing grasp and stood up, staring at Shepard with pain-filled eyes of sorrow.

"No," Shepard said breathlessly, his eyes and mouth wide open.

"It's too late," Tali lamented as she stood up from the soft grass, her beautiful silhouette glowing in the sun.

Tali gave Shepard one last look—a look full of sorrow, of mourning, of lamentation—as she turned away from him, stepping across the lilies as a cold wind began to blow, Tali's frame turning into dust as it scattered across the grass, the cold wind threatening to freeze Shepard's languid soul once again.

Shepard opened his eyes once more—but this time, more quickly, panicked, as he felt the cold breeze of the ship's air conditioning blowing across him. His body tensed, causing pain to freely flow through his body, before he realized where he was and began to relax, desperately trying to recall Tali's warmth and her scent.

After a long moment, Shepard sat up from his bed—covered in clean, white sheets—as he ignored the pain as best as he could. His left hand was completely bandaged up in a hard cast, and he could feel the tightness of medigel across his stomach. His legs ached, and his bones felt hollow, but even with those small pains, the cold emptiness made him feel hollow.

What had he done?

A terrible knot in his stomach started to form as fleeting images began to fly through his mind—images that he could barely make out, as if he were looking at them through a sheet of frosted glass.

Frellock had died—and then Tali had stopped Shepard from killing the colonists who had attacked their vehicle.

And then Shepard had left—but where did he go?

And then, the final, sharpest memory he had left—his hand grasping tightly around Tali's throat.

A helpless, uncharacteristic sob came from Shepard's mouth as he realized that his dream had only been that—a dream. Had he killed Tali… for real? A tear flowed down his cheek—the first tear to have left Shepard's eyes since his childhood.

"Joker," Shepard said, trying to hold his sobs back as he tapped on his omni-tool, which was slightly obscured by the bandages over his hand. "Is Tali… is… i-is…"

"She's alright, commander," Joker said, saving Shepard from saying the words that he feared the most in his heart. Shepard let out a sob of relief as a small smile came to his face. Shepard sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to unknot the horrible dread that was still in his stomach.

"Can… she see me?" Shepard said quietly to his omni-tool once again.

"I'll send her up," Joker said, his loud voice filling Shepard's cabin.

With some difficulty, Shepard stood up, putting pressure on his injured leg to ensure it would hold him. He limped his way over to the mirror in his cabin, giving himself a sad grimace as he observed all the new wounds which he had picked up. He only wore a casual, loose fitting shirt and similarly loose pair of pants, but the bandages and medigel were still easily felt by their tight hold.

A quiet knock came at his door, the ringing metal alerting him of the only person who ever seemed to knock instead of ring.

"Come in," Shepard said, hoping that his cracking voice was loud enough for her to hear. After a moment, the metal door slid open, revealing Tali's frame, standing tall and appearing uninjured, wearing a newer looking, less faded veil around her head and body, but even from a quick glance, Shepard could see from the way that she slouched, and from the concern and fear in her eyes, things were not fine.

Shepard weakly gestured to the chair at his desk. Like a specter, Tali silently floated to the chair, all the while holding her hands together in front of her as she kept her gaze focused down at the ground, at Shepard's feet.

Shepard tried to swallow past the hard lump in his throat, trying to keep the tears from welling from his eyes once again as he glanced up at Tali, sitting silently in place, her frame no less beautiful than it had been in his dream. Even from here, he could smell the same scent of lilies and machine oil that he had imagined. And in her eyes, through the latent concern and fear, Shepard could see into those pools of unconquerable selflessness and pureness.

Shepard stood up, ignoring the screaming pain in his wounded limbs and stomach as he slowly walked in front of Tali.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali sat uncomfortably in Shepard's desk chair, keeping her gaze down at the floor as he painfully stood up and slowly walked towards him, making her shift her posture unconsciously.

She glanced up at Shepard for a brief moment, matching his hazel eyes—eyes filled with insufferable amounts of pain and horrors that she couldn't even begin to imagine. But she couldn't simply forget those glaring black eyes, filled with the cruelest hate and anger that she had ever seen.

But that wasn't him—it was something else. She knew it had to be true, there was no mistaking it—the man who sat in front of her right now—Shepard—wasn't the same person who she had seen on Therum, on the MSV Fedele, on Erinle—there was no mistaking the black eyes that suddenly seemed to overtake him on each of those cruel moments that Tali had witnessed his utter cruelty manifesting itself in an increasingly brutal way each time.

"What happened?" Shepard said emptily, still unable to look up at Tali.

"You… killed…" Tali said, trying to push the word out of her throat, as if speaking it would bring Shepard's anger back in a moment. "You killed so many people."

Floors stained with flowing blood—asari, turian, human, batarian, salarian—all blending together on the floor, sickening pools of warm life splashing across her feet.

Tali felt bile rising in her throat as she tried to push those images out of her mind, trying to push the terrible image of Shepard, grasping onto her throat tightly, so tightly…

"I have to go," Tali said, standing up suddenly as she tried to force the calm into her voice.

"No!" Shepard suddenly shouted as he stepped forward rapidly, outstretching his hands and reaching for her.

Those hands that had so quickly snapped up at her throat, stealing the life from her.

Tali fell backwards, tripping over the chair as she slammed to the ground, pushing away from Shepard as quickly as she could, jumping up to her feet.

Tali turned away from Shepard, almost running to the door as she quickly slammed on the button, running out of Shepard's cabin, running from the horrible images in her mind, from her misconceptions, from her past—from anything that she could run from. Ignoring the crewmembers and their concerned stares, she ran past them all, throwing the door shut behind her as she collapsed on the ground in the empty sleeping chamber.

Nobody had been there to see what Tali had seen.

_Tali falls to the ground, gasping, trying to bring life back to her dying body as dark black spots flickered across her vision, threatening to send her into unconsciousness._

"_No…" Tali whispers, barely able to get the air past her wounded throat._

_Tick._

_A pool of blood covered the floor—was it her blood? Was she bleeding? Dark red blood—quarian blood._

_Human blood._

_Tali lifts herself out of the horrible pool of blood, the sickly red liquid soaking into her purple veil, drenching her entire hood in Shepard's brutal lifeblood._

"_Shepard," Tali said, extending an arm to the lifeless body on the floor. "Shepard!"_

_Tick._

_Tali crawls forward as fast as she can, clenching her eyes shut, trying to ignore the sticky warmth she felt covering her whole body. She puts a hand on Shepard's chest—covered in the same horrible, sticky blood—wrenching off his chestplate as quickly as she can._

_The tattered piece of black steel slid off easily, giving up against Tali's efforts. She throws it to the side, ignoring the splash that it makes._

_Tick._

_She tears away Shepard's horribly tattered undershirt, soaked and stained red, revealing his chest and his stomach, so horribly wounded and disfigured._

_His entire chest is a patchwork of dark brown and purple splotches, long ropy scars splitting the regions of blue and purple. Four holes through his chest, another three across his stomach, another two along his side._

_Tick._

"_Alive," Tali whispers breathlessly, as she witnesses Shepard's breath helplessly flowing out of the holes in his chest, blood softly bubbling away from the wound._

_Tali scrabbles at the medi-gel in her pocket, tightening on the seal as she tried to grab onto it, but her hands won't stop shaking. They simply won't stop shaking._

_Tick._

_The packet of medigel falls to the floor, sinking into the pool of blood as Tali desperately picks it back up again, ignoring the red blood slowly dripping off its surface. A deep breath to calm her nerves._

_Tali rips the top of the package open, medigel softly oozing out of the opening. With hands still shaking, she pours the gel on top of his chest, trying to gently rub the liquid across the terrible holes in his chest._

_The medigel hardens up, stemming the flow of blood from his chest. Shepard's chest begins to rise and fall again with the steady rhythm of his breath, his heart still somehow pumping inside of the ruined vessel of his body._

_Tick._

"_Don't die, Shepard," Tali says unconsciously as she tries to find another package of medigel inside of one of her deep pockets._

_Another packet. She tears it open, barely able to restrain her shaking hands as she runs the medigel across his stomach, sealing the wound._

_His wrist._

_Tali lifts up Shepard's arm, terrified to see the horrible gash that she expected to see. She lifts the loose limb into the air, Shepard's blood desperately pumping blood through his wounded body, out of the arteries in his wrist and onto the floor in an increasingly large pile of blood._

_Tick._

"_No, no, no," Tali whispers, feeling for another packet of medigel somewhere in her pockets._

_There is no more medigel._

_Tick._

_Tali grasps onto Shepard's wrist, holding it tight as she tries to stem the flow of blood._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Then she sees it—on the wall. The glowing terminal, softly illuminating the room which feels so dark._

_Two minutes and twelve seconds until detonation._

_Tali stands up slowly, as if in a trance, barely comprehending the letters in front of her._

_Tick._

_Abort operation._

_Tick._

_Operation cannot be aborted at this time._

_Tali calmly lifts up her omni-tool, unconscious of her own actions as she taps on the holographic screen, ignoring the blood that is soaking her entire body._

_Operation aborted._

_Tali sits down on the ground, lifting up Shepard's wounded wrist as she feels a pit of despair growing in her stomach._

_Shepard has lost too much blood._

_Tali lies down on the ground helplessly, tightly clenching Shepard's wrist in some hope that she can slow the blood. She hugs his arm tightly to her own chest, ignoring the blood that seems to be flowing faster with every pump of his heart._

_Tali closes her eyes, submitting to the black spots that cover her vision, blinding her._

"_Tali!" Garrus shouts, stunning her awake. The turian is standing inside of the doorframe, his boots covered in blood._

_Tali looks at Garrus helplessly, lifting Shepard's wounded arm that she still so desperately clings onto._

_Garrus kneels down on the ground beside her prone form, gently rolling her over and examining her for wounds._

"_Shepard," Tali says breathlessly. "Shepard."_

_Garrus pulls a packet of medigel out of his pocket as he lifts Shepard's arm off the ground._

_Tali closes her eyes._

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Tali!"

Garrus stepped into the sleeping cabin, frowning as he observed Tali sitting in the corner of the room, her legs pulled up to her chest as she rested her chin on top of her knees.

"Tali?" Garrus said again, moving to stand beside her.

"Oh, hi, Garrus," Tali said, looking up at him as if she had just awoken from sleep. "Did… you need something?"

"Are you alright?" Garrus asked, leaning on the wall and sliding down beside her, being careful not to put too much pressure onto the metal brace which wrapped around his wounded leg.

"I'm fine," Tali said unconvincingly as she nodded and gave Garrus a reassuring glance. "Just running some… uhm… system diagnostics."

Garrus could tell by the hesitation in her voice that there was more wrong than she was letting on. Garrus had been the only person to witness Tali's strange behavior after what had happened on Erinle.

Garrus sighed unconsciously as he replayed the memories through his mind.

After Tali and Shepard had both disappeared, Jaime and Francis had half-led, half-carried Garrus to the Salu Karah facility, but by the time they arrived—nearly an hour later—the place was a quiet as a graveyard, and filled with just as many bodies. Numerous corpses littered the ground outside, drying out underneath the hot desert sun, and that had only been the beginning of the madness. Even more corpses had filled the interior of the facility, but what he had found at the bottom disturbed him the most.

He stepped down the stairwell, being careful not to make too much noise in the event that there were still unfriendly mercenaries awaiting his arrival. As he entered the basement, he caught sight of two things far too familiar to him—Tali's purple veil and the immense amounts of blood that completely and wholly soaked it.

Nearly dashing to Tali's prone body, lying atop Shepard's bare chest and grasping onto his arm tightly, ignoring the pain in his own shattered leg, he rolled her over, terrified of the horrible bullet wounds that he would most likely see on Tali's chest.

But as Garrus rolled Tali over, there was not a single wound to be found. Nowhere across her body was her environment suit scarred, yet she was still soaking in so much blood, enough that it dripped off of her veil as Garrus rolled her over.

"Shepard," was all Tali whispered as Garrus tried to lift her off the ground and out of the blood she soaked in. She lifted a trembling hand, pointing to Shepard's body still lying on the ground, spread out with his arms to his side, his chest discolored purple from the abuse he had received from the many bullet wounds that pierced his body.

Tali helplessly rolled over, reaching for Shepard's hand once again, clasping both of her hands tightly around his wrist as she fell back into the pool of blood, unconscious of the warm liquid flowing across her body.

It was then that Garrus had noticed the horrible wound that Shepard had sustained on his wrist—a long gash that cut nearly an inch deep, revealing the milk-white bones underneath where the blood still poured out every second, pushed by Shepard's desperate heart.

With Francis' help, they carried Shepard and Tali out of the murky depths of the Salu Karah encampment, closing up his wounds as best as they were capable of using their limited supply of medigel. Using a communicator that Jaime filched from one of the nearby rooms, he signalled the nearest Alliance spacecraft for pickup.

The on-ship doctor had given Shepard admirable treatment, sealing up all of his wounds more effectively and providing him with an assortment of medications that were forced down his unconscious gullet to supposedly help him recover. But Tali was the more interesting case.

While Shepard remained in his comatose state for the two days they spent on the SSV Jacobin and three more days on the Normandy, Tali had only been unconscious for a few hours after they left Erinle. The doctor on the Jacobin had no understanding of quarian physiology, and thusly wasn't able to provide any explanation of her condition, but was able to determine one relieving fact; she had suffered no lethal injuries.

Garrus sat by Tali's side while she was unconscious, caring for her as the doctor cared for Shepard in a nearby chamber. A few times before she awoke, her whole body tensed up as if she were in the midst of a grand battle, before she relaxed once more, softly muttering words that Garrus could only discern to be "Shepard".

As Garrus was sitting on his chair, leaning forward into his hands as he lightly closed his eyes, the temptation of sleep tantalizing to his weary frame, Tali suddenly shot up, jumping off of the bed in one swift movement as she scrabbled for the shotgun that wasn't at her back, and then for the knife which wasn't on her leg.

"Shepard!" Tali shouted, as Garrus quickly tried to stand up on his good leg, jolted fully from his sleepiness. He put a calming hand on her shoulders, but Tali grabbed onto Garrus, violently shaking him as she repeated her mournful cry.

"Shepard!"

"Shepard is safe," Garrus said reassuringly, as the terror in Tali's eyes slowly began to fade away, as she took in her surroundings and the familiar figure of Garrus standing guard.

"Where's Shepard?" Tali asked, before anything else, and Garrus took her to the med bay where the wounded soldier lied unconscious on the medical bed.

Tali slowly stepped forward, slowly grasping onto Shepard's hand as she examined his wrist, covered in a thick, unbending cast, the clean white covering his brutally injured hand.

She hadn't spoken many more words in the following days—often sitting in silence, staring at the empty walls distantly, unresponsive to Garrus' concerned questions.

Just as she sat now.

"How are you hanging in?" Garrus asked, glancing over at Tali's unmoving form.

"I'm fine," she said quietly, not looking over at him.

"I heard Shepard woke up," Garrus said, trying to see if that would get any reaction from her.

"Yes," Tali said simply, similarly unmoving.

"That's good, right?" Garrus said with a chuckle.

"Maybe," Tali said somberly.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Anderson leaned over the table, eyes fixed onto the holographic display with gently blinking orange and green lights across the board.

"Langdon, Dmitri, Fenris—come in."

"SSV Langdon, reporting in."

"SSV Dmitri, all primed.

"SSV Fenris, we're ready when you are."

Anderson took a deep breath as he steadied himself with his arms against the solid metal table. "Prepare to strike."

Three green dots on the hologram moved in closer to the multitude of orange colored dots, not quite within range but approaching it rapidly.

"Langdon, Dmitri, take flanking positions and focus fire. Fenris, provide support and covering fire."

"Affirmative," was heard multiple times as each of the frigates confirmed their commands and their respective green dots began to maneuver, becoming dangerously close to the orange dots.

"We've got them in sight," the Langdon reported.

"Flanking maneuevers in place," the Dmitri called back as the two frigates circled around one of the orange dots. "Engaged."

"Pull back," Anderson commanded. Right on cue, each of the green dots spun around and began making their way away from the swarm of orange dots on the screen.

"Shields at seventy-four percent," the Dmitri reported. "Took too many hits back there—we need some time to recharge."

"Fenris, provide cover."

"That's a no-go, Captain—we're at twenty-six percent shield capacity. The bastards swarmed us as soon as we went in."

"Damnit," Anderson swore under his breath. "Dmitri, you'll have to hold out. Langdon, continue with evasive maneuvers."

"They're not following, Captain—they gave up pursuit. We're clear."

"We need them to follow—that's the whole plan," Anderson said, becoming frustrated. "Strike again."

"We need time to recharge our shields," Fenris responded.

"Hang back—provide long distance support. This is our only chance—the turian fleet is only a few minutes away."

There was silence on the radio for a few moments as Anderson observed the green dots swapping positions and making their way back towards the enemies. "Prepare strike."

"Affirmative."

The Dmitri and the Langdon jumped back into the fray, using their lightweight size to deftly navigate around the massive geth cruisers, all the while absorbing deadly rounds into their shielding from the cannons mounted on the sides of the geth vessels, sending deep vibrations through the cores of each ship.

"Damnit—only fifty-two percent," the Langdon reported hurriedly.

"Twenty-six, here," the Dmitri replied. "Beginning extraction."

"Pulling out," the Fenris said, their green dot backing away from the conflict as a rapid speed.

"We've got chasers," the Langdon confirmed as Anderson watched two of the orange dots disengaging and giving chase to the remaining green dots.

"Watch your shields, but keep them in range."

"Can't take much more of this," the Dmitri called out. "Seven percent shields!"

"Get out of firing range," Anderson said. "But don't go too fast."

"Turian fleet within range. Requesting fire support," the Fenris said.

Another few moments passed before the Dmitri called in once again. "Shields down! Repeat, shields are down!"

"Get out of there, Dmitri! Langdon, provide support to their escape."

"We're down on shields too—we're taking heavy damage!"

Anderson swore again as he watched the two red dots suddenly picking up speed as the Dmitri and the Langdon tried their best to speed away from the conflict.

"Damnit! We've got a hull breach!" the Langdon shouted. "They're picking up speed! We can't get away!"

"Fenris, provide support!"

"We can't—we're too low down on shields," came the damning reply.

"Shit! They're going to—"

The SSV Langdon's communication feed suddenly went blank as the green dot suddenly began to flash red as it sat in place on the hologram in front of him.

"Langdon down! They're focusing fire! Damnit, damnit, damnit!"

"Where are the turians?"

"Request denied, damnit!" the Fenris shouted back. "We need to get out of here!"

"Activate FTL drives!" Anderson shouted.

"FTL drives powering up," the Dmitri said. "They're breached our lower level—we've lost—"

The Dmitri's green light went out in another damning blink of red.

"Fenris, can you escape?"

"We're working on it—shields at twenty nine percent, activating FTL jump…"

A burst of static hit Anderson's ears as the Fenris began to blink red as well.

"Fenris, do you read? Repeat, SSV Fenris; do you read?"

Nothing but silence reached Anderson's ears.

He hung his head as he clenched a fist and slammed it into the table.

"Damn geth," Udina said from the spot where he had been leaning against the wall. Anderson, only noticing him now, turned around took look at the man.

"What are you doing here?"

"To tell you we're losing, Anderson."

"What do you mean?" Anderson said, furrowing his brow as he regarded Udina's grim face.

"Hackett and Belford couldn't pull through either—Belford lost two frigates and a cruiser, Hackett lost one."

Anderson sighed as he turned to face Udina, steadying himself on the metal table.

"I can't believe the geth have pushed this far already," Udina said with a sad shake of his head. "Kepler, Armstrong, Maroon, Argos, Attican…"

Anderson pushed himself away from the table and strode past Udina, leaving the man standing in the middle of the room looking at him curiously.

"Where are you going?" Udina asked.

"I'm going to the bar," Anderson replied simply.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard sat still for a long time, his gaze not focusing on anything in particular as he tried to ignore the pain in his chest—not from the bullets, but from what he had done.

Nothing in his cabin matched the disarray and sorrow in Shepard's mind. Shepard's armor was in one corner, neatly folded and placed into a pile in one corner of the room, the brutal scratches and scars hidden beneath the folds of metal. On the shelves which Shepard had never bothered to fill, a few bottles of medication and unknown pouches of some sort sat in place. Even Shepard's desk was well organized—the black metal box was neatly placed underneath the desk against one of the legs, and the various datapads and pieces of paper he had scrawled bits and pieces of information on were meticulously organized into one square pile on the corner of the desk.

_It was my fault,_ Shepard told himself again and again, reiterating the same words that he had heard accusing him in his dreams so many hundreds of times over the last year.

He hadn't been able to control himself—he was _weak._ He had simply given in to the hell that was growing inside of him, unbeknownst to him.

He could feel it even now—the slight disturbance inside of his own mind, the dark side which seemed to always push him to aggressiveness and action rather than rational thought and compassion. It felt as if it trembled in anticipation, lying dormant to wait for Shepard's moment of greatest weakness, only to turn against his friends when he could not resist any longer.

Shepard shuddered again, Tali's warm eyes staring through him—eyes so pure and perfect that judged him, even if Tali did not.

He had nearly killed her.

Another choked sob escaped Shepard's lips as he recalled the way which she had left his room with terror stricken through her eyes. There was no escaping the fact—she had seen the demon within Shepard, and it was a sight that she would never forget or forgive for the rest of her life.

It was like losing his family all over again.

He may as well have been that ten year old child, holding a knife in his hand, stabbing the batarian that lied on the ground, tears flowing from his eyes as he cried for his mother, his father, desperately hoping that out of the bloodied remains of the corpse in front of him would come some way for him to bring his own nightmares to an end.

The day that Shepard would lose a part of himself forever—his innocence, his compassion, his empathy for life. The very same things that Tali epitomized, the very things that made up her entire being.

It was like losing himself again.

He sat still for a very long time, eyes clenched shut as he tried to push his demons, his regrets, and his guilt away from his mind, trying to desperately hold onto Tali's warm scent, the feel of her hands beneath his.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Sparatus," the turian said as he stepped through the thick metal door and into his lavishly decorated chambers, with a long red carpet down the middle stretch and an excess of modern luxuries strewn throughout the room.

"Kryll," Sparatus said, standing up from his desk as he placed his hands behind his back. "I told you not to come here without warning."

"It's important," Kryll said dismissively. Sparatus gave him a curious look, but said no more, as he knew that despite the fact the Spectre served him, he could have torn through him in a moment if he so chose.

Kryll stepped up to his desk, tossing a datapad down onto the table as he leaned forward, looking expectantly at Sparatus. After a moment, Sparatus leaned back in his chair, idly picking up the datapad.

"Salu Karah," Kryll began to explain. "Taken out."

"Taken out?" Sparatus said incredulously, looking at Kryll with a hint of derision in his eyes.

"Taken out," Kryll reiterated. "Gone."

Sparatus frowned for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he looked through the datapad more closely.

"The facility was destroyed?"

"No," Kryll said. "But all high-ranking personnel on site were killed, and most of the remaining mercenaries ran as soon as the colonists got access to their armory."

"Damnit," Sparatus said, gritting his teeth. "The colonists revolted? How? They had no weapons! I thought that Salu Karah was—"

"It wasn't colonists," Kryll said grimly.

Sparatus paused his tirade, grimly nodding.

"It was Shepard," he deduced. Kryll's curt nod confirmed it.

Sparatus sighed for a moment. "Of course it was Shepard," he whispered. "And of course Salu Karah wouldn't be able to hold their end of the bargain."

"Shall I revoke payment?"

Sparatus snorted as he looked at the Spectre incredulously. "Of course you're going to revoke payment—were you planning on paying it off to the colonists?"

Kryll merely nodded once.

Sparatus sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair once more, closing his eyes as he rested a hand on top of his head.

"Then I guess we'll need a new plan," Sparatus finally said resignedly. "Do you think you can handle one human?"

"Shepard is a worthy opponent," Kryll said in an emotionless monotone. "The remaining mercenaries claim that Shepard was the one who killed everybody."

Sparatus scoffed. "I wouldn't believe that," he said. "The peasants just make up whatever they want—they'll make Shepard a god-damned hero if they want." Sparatus paused for a moment before he fixed Kryll with another hard gaze. "Can you do it?"

"It will be done," Kryll said with a sharp nod of his head.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard, we're docking at the Citadel in a couple of minutes," came Joker's voice over the speakers in Shepard's room.

Shepard closed his eyes, taking a deep breath despite the pain that still resided in his lungs. He slowly stretched out his legs from where he held them close to his chest for the last few hours, getting up onto his feet as he steadily shook the coldness from his limbs as best as he could.

Shepard glanced over at the black heap of metal that lied down in the corner of his room, where someone had caringly folded and stacked it all in place. He lifted up each of the pieces, one by one, grimacing as he watched each one and the punctures that seemed to cover every single piece of metal. Along the chest plate, the assortment of scratches and gashes that he had planned on fixing long ago still resided, beside the much fresher holes which seemed to pepper the entire plate. The once inflexible piece of metal seemed to bend and flex like a piece of rubber under Shepard's grasp, and with a frown, he tossed it to the side of the room, regretting that he would not be able to use it any further.

With some difficulty, he stripped down from the loosely fitting shirt and pants which he hadn't known existed on this ship, and slipped into a traditional navy blue colored, sharp looking Alliance uniform, golden buttons across the chest. After Shepard finally was able to fasten it in place, he hobbled over to the mirror, frowning as he looked at himself.

Shepard shook his head, choosing to instead ignoring his own appearance in place of the information which he tried to run through his mind. How he was going to explain the whole mess of Salu Karah was beyond him—in fact, he barely knew what happened beyond… beyond Tali.

With a shake of his head, he tried to push that out of the way as well. Perhaps he should take Garrus and Tali along to see Anderson—would he mind? After all, they likely knew more about what had happened afterwards either way.

Shepard frowned slightly as he realized the gap in time which he hadn't concerned himself with before. His last memory was on Erinle… and then he woke up on the Normandy. But the Normandy had been docked on the Citadel—how long was he unconscious for?

It must have been at least a few days, he determined with another grimace. It wasn't a good habit to be going unconscious like that.

Shepard finally stepped over to his shotgun and pistol lying on the ground, with his knife and it's sheath neatly placed on top. Shepard clipped the shotgun and the pistol to his hip, and then stooped down, resting a hand on the blade which had adorned his calf for so long.

He gripped tightly onto the handle, as he had done so many times in the past, but now the hard plastic didn't give him strength—it filled him with dread, with terror at how the blade seemed to epitomize the anger and the hatred that existed within him, as if the blade itself were a channel to hell.

Shepard solemnly buckled the blade onto his left leg as usual.

He slowly made his way upstairs, the pain in his legs not quite so omnipresent that it made walking impossible, but his own languid soul took away any of his hurry or anticipation for what would come next.

As he stepped over the top step, he looked down the long main hallway of the Normandy, catching the familiar sight of Kaidan and Ashley, both equipped in equally heavy armor and leaning casually against the wall as they awaited Joker to finish navigating them into the Citadel.

"Hey, Shepard," Ashley called out with a wave as he approached them.

"How are you feeling?" Kaidan asked, pushing himself off the wall to stand up straight.

"I'm alive," Shepard said, though he didn't know if that was an improvement.

"You looked pretty battered up," Kaidan said with a chuckle. "I heard you took care of those mercenaries that were dogging us?"

Shepard merely nodded grimly, recalling that Ashley had been attacked as well. "Didn't you get attacked too?"

"I'm fine," she said with a shake of her head. "I didn't take two dozen bullets to the chest like you did."

Shepard smiled sadly as he stopped and leaned against the wall opposite to them.

"Glad that you pulled through, Shepard," Kaidan said with a small smile.

"Though you shouldn't have taken the aliens with you," Ashley added with a shrug of her shoulders.

"_Aliens?_" Shepard said, giving Ashley a curious look as the small smile on Kaidan's face disappeared.

"You know—the turian and the quarian. Should have brought some real soldiers with you."

Shepard's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't quite know what to take from her statement—did she have a problem with Garrus and Tali—still?

"What's wrong with you, Ashley?" Kaidan said with an unexpected amount of chastising in his voice as he turned to face Ashley.

"What?" Ashley said, looking at Kaidan's frown as if she hadn't done anything wrong.

"You're always complaining about Garrus and Tali—what's your problem with them?"

"Nothing," Ashley said defensively as she edged away from Kaidan somewhat. "Jeez, I just meant—"

"It's always the same with you—you don't like the turians because of Shanxi, and you're so damn stuck up that you think every quarian is a thief and a _saved_ Shepard's life—if it weren't for her, Shepard would have died!"

The words struck Shepard with more heft that he was expecting. He grasped onto the railing behind him as he sharply drew in breath as he realized how close to the brink he had come.

He had wounds across his chest, stomach, legs, and a knife wound across his wrist—wounds that would have incapacitated and killed any man alive within minutes from blood loss alone—not to mention difficulty breathing due to lung punctures, or damaged vital organs.

Had Tali… saved his life?

"You need to open your eyes and realize that Garrus and Tali will always be better soldiers than you until you learn to deal with your damn prejudice," Kaidan finished with a cross of his arms as he stood stiffly, looking at Ashley who was frowning and looking between Kaidan and Shepard.

"Fine, asshole," Ashley said, defeated, as she turned around and marched away from them. Kaidan glanced over at Shepard for a moment before he leaned back on the wall behind, sighing as he shook his head and looked at the ceiling.

Tali had repaid the favor.

* * *

Hey, everybody. I hope you've been enjoying everything thus far!

Should I keep writing these little posts at the end of every chapter? I like to be able to connect to my audience (which is why I cherish reviews and comments), but I'm not sure if these are distracting or tone-breaking. Either way, let me know if it matters at all to you.

Other than that, just the usual-Azzorath is an amazing person. Kudos to him!

See you guys later!


	23. The Clock

**:: Chapter Twenty Three :: **The Clock **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_As the candles yawned,_

_My world grew darker_

'_Til barely a detail remained._

_Her finger to my lips,_

_I am stilled in an instant—_

_I sip, and am numbed,_

_From here the path winds backwards._

_I first I see my entering,_

_And then my steps in reverse,_

_Descent where I had fallen._

_Familiar, all is skewed,_

_And yet I cannot reflect,_

_Beyond my eyelids, I have died,_

_Yet I collapse into my youth._

_-Be'lakor-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"Welcome back, Shepard," Anderson greeted as he stepped through the door, along with his two dextro companions.

"Hello, sir," Shepard said with a nod and salute. "I've brought my two companions—Garrus and Tali—because they were also there on Erinle."

Anderson nodded once. "Yes, I'm familiar with the two of them. I'm glad that they were there to assist you," Anderson said with a knowing nod to each of Shepard's companions. Anderson turned around and stepped further into the room, the same as always, as he gestured towards the empty chairs sitting in the middle of the room.

With a shrug, Shepard sat himself down in the farthest chair, Garrus sitting beside him and then Tali furthest away, sitting uncomfortably as if she were getting ready to leave.

"I've heard from my information brokers that Salu Karah has been shattered," Anderson began, sitting down and leaning back in his chair as he put a hand on his chin.

"Yes," Shepard said.

"But Sergeant Frellock isn't in charge," Anderson said. "What happened?"

"Changing circumstances resulted in the Sergeant's death," Shepard began to say. The memories were all so faint to him—he could barely even recall what had happened. "Our transport vehicle was damaged by a roadside mine."

"Salu Karah knew you were coming?"

Shepard matched Anderson's gaze for a moment, but he had no answer of his own. In fact, he hadn't even put any thought into where the mine had come from. Was it those men that approached the vehicle after it was blown up?

"It was—"

"The colonists," Tali interrupted, glancing over at Shepard for a moment. "They didn't know that we were Alliance soldiers—they thought that they would be able to resell the weapons that we were transporting."

"So, pirates," Anderson said as he frowned slightly.

"No," Tali said. "Not pirates," she said more firmly. "They had no money, no food, and no way of paying for the medication of someone they cared for—they were desperate for some way of treating their ill."

Anderson merely nodded a few times, his face impassive.

"What happened after that?"

Tali glanced over at Shepard, who shifted his weight in his seat for a moment before he took a deep breath. "Without Sergeant Frellock, I decided to stage an assault on the Salu Karah encampment using my infiltration and stealth skills."

_Yeah, right. Infiltration._ Hazy memories of all the bodies he left on the ground flashed through his mind.

Also, a slight tinge of pride.

"I was able to eliminate the majority of enemy personnel on site."

Anderson's brow furrowed for a moment as he regarded Shepard. "There were more than fifty soldiers at the encampment according to my sources."

Shepard nodded a few times, uncertain of what to say. He barely knew what day it was—how many people he had killed in his rampage was a fact unknown to him.

"After Shepard eliminated key personnel," Garrus began to speak, noticing Shepard's hesitation, "The colonists were able to seize control of the Salu Karah facility, sending the remaining soldiers in flight."

"The same colonists that attacked you?" Anderson said with a curious look in his eye. Garrus nodded silently, likely knowing fully well how ridiculous handing power over to their aggressors would seem.

"They're reliable," Tali said, her voice still firm. "They had been living under Salu Karah's shadow for many months, if not years—they fought for the sole purpose of escaping that shadow."

Garrus nodded a few times, supporting Tali's evaluation. "I spoke with some of the men—a man named Jaime Prestock was able to gain access to Salu Karah's command channels and take control of the forces currently deployed without their knowledge."

"So, Frellock was unnecessary," Anderson said. "Either way, as long as we've got Salu Karah out of the way, we're in a better position than we were in a few hours ago."

"Salu Karah—or rather, Jaime—will assist the Alliance in any way he can," Garrus continued to say. "I spoke with him at length about the future of Erinle, and he claims that he will spread Salu Karah's wealth amongst his people, and that he'll devote the remaining forces he has at his disposal to combating Saren."

Anderson nodded a few times, his face visibly brightening at the news. "We've got some hope, then," Anderson said. "We'll hope that he stays to his word and that his forces stay loyal."

"They're mercenaries," Garrus said. "They'll go wherever the money takes them."

"True," Anderson said with an agreeing nod.

They were quiet for a moment before Anderson sighed and sat up straighter. "We've got some bad news."

"What's that, sir?" Shepard said, refocusing on the conversation at hand.

"We can't fight off Saren alone," Anderson said, putting a hand on his chin again. "We knew that from the start, but it's getting to be too evident."

"Has Saren been pushing onto our more populated colonies?"

Anderson nodded once. "And the Council still refuses support. We've tried everything to get them into this battle with us, but all that resulted was the loss of three frigates."

They were quiet for a moment again as the information sunk in to the listeners.

"Sir, should we leave?" Garrus said, standing up slightly in his chair.

Anderson waved a hand in front of him as he shook his head. "You're part of Shepard's crew—you may as well hear this from the horse's mouth."

Garrus looked over at Tali with a slight look of confusion on his face, but Anderson continued regardless.

"We've got a lot of work to do," Anderson said as he fixed Shepard with a solid stare. "I've got quite a few other teams out there taking care of hit and run operations—but I'm losing men every day. It's soldiers like you that I need—soldiers capable of thinking on the spot and acting when things need to get done."

Shepard had to avoid the urge to scoff at the remark.

"For that reason, I need you to hang back for a couple of days."

"What?" Shepard said, expecting an order above all else.

"I've got a lead on something that could be important," Anderson began to explain. "But until we've got more concrete evidence, I don't want to send you chasing after shadows—I need you here so that once we find that information, I can get it to you A.S.A.P."

Shepard nodded a few times with a slight frown on his face. What was the point of hanging around the Citadel?

"Isn't there something else we can do?" Shepard said. "We could provide ground support to the colonies under siege."

"No," Anderson stated firmly. "We need you at peak condition, Shepard. We can't have you getting injured like that on a regular basis," Anderson said as he pointed a hand at the thick wrappings around his wrist.

"It's not important," Shepard insisted as he attempted to flex his fingertips—with little success.

"I need you here, Shepard," Anderson stated again. "It's for the best."

Shepard leaned back and let out a pent up sigh, submitting to Anderson. There was more than he was letting on… but perhaps it was for the best.

"Yes, sir," Shepard finally said meekly.

"Good," Anderson said as he pushed himself out of his chair and stood up stiffly. "While we're waiting, get some rest—all of you. I know that things haven't been easy."

Anderson smiled warmly at them as they stood up and made their way to the door, giving them a firm pat on the shoulder.

"I'll let you know once we get that lead," Anderson said with a small smile as Shepard stepped out of the door and threw a salute back at him.

The door slid shut, leaving Garrus, Tali and Shepard back outside out the embassies, standing silently for a few moments as Garrus and Tali looked at each other awkwardly.

"Are you going to get those checked out?" Garrus asked, pointing to his chest. Apparently, his grimace hadn't been quite as subtle as he thought.

"It's not an issue," Shepard said. "I'm sure that Doctor Chakwas took care of them well enough."

"Doctor Chakwas didn't patch you up," Garrus said, looking at him with an odd look. "It was Doctor Harris, on the SSV Jacobin."

"The SSV Jacobin? I've never heard of that ship, before," Shepard said.

"Well, you slept on it for four days," Tali said quietly.

"Four days?" Shepard said with surprise.

"Lost a lot of blood," Garrus said. "If it weren't for Tali and her medigel, you would have died."

Tali shoved an elbow into Garrus' side as he finished.

"Thank you," Shepard began to say, but Tali shook her head and waved her hands in front of her.

"No, no—it's nothing, I mean, it's not important," she stammered as she backed away from him.

"Maybe we can go and find you a new veil?" Shepard offered, pointing at her current one—similarly purple colored, though it didn't have the subtle designs that the old one had.

"What?" Tali said, pulling her hood forward slightly as she looked at it. "Oh, no—I don't need a new one."

"Come on," Shepard said, doing his best to put a friendly smile on his face—though it ended up lopsided and slightly forced. "Or we could just go and check out the new omni-tool models."

"N—no," Tali said, backing away a bit further. "Uhm, Engineer Adams wanted me to… to look for a new thermal paste for the transformers," she said as she made her way to the stairway away from the embassies. "T—thanks, though…"

Without another word, she disappeared around the corner, leaving Garrus and Shepard alone—and feeling a little bit colder inside.

"Do you want a new veil, Garrus?" Shepard asked emptily, without any hint of humor in his voice.

"Uh, no thanks, Commander," Garrus said with a curious look over at Shepard. "If I'm not needed, I have to head back to C-Sec and check in with the Cap'n—I promised that I'd stop by every so often."

Shepard merely nodded as Garrus made his way down the stairs and headed on his way, leaving Shepard alone once again. He sighed deeply, ignoring the long spikes of pain through his chest and stomach as he leaned back against the wall.

Life had a way of kicking Shepard down.

It always seemed that way—in all the fuzzy memories that Shepard held broken fragments of in his mind, all that seemed to remain certain was the fact that tomorrow would be worse. He could barely remember his parent's faces, or their bloodied corpses, or Elysium, or even Akuze.

They were just sheets of glass stained with poignant loss.

Shepard made his way down the same staircase that his companions had rushed down, heading across the Presidium, barely conscious of the few people strolling about the walkways that crisscrossed over top the glimmering waters of the lake in between the grassy platforms.

"Get a move on, private—we don't have all day to stare at damn flowers!"

Shepard smiled slightly at the pair of soldiers passing by them—one clearly labelled as the elder to the other, with a tone of voice that had the same grating edge that so many of his drill sergeants had had in the past.

"_Never stay down!"_ his old sergeant, a not-so-amicable man named Hardin, had often shouted in his ears incessantly.

Shepard walked over to the middle of one of the long walkways, leaning against the edge as he dangled his head over the glittering waters.

"Shut your mouth and get the hell up!" his old drill sergeant had shouted at him as he swung the long wooden baton towards Shepard's back again, the sharp snap sending his weak and tired body falling back to the ground.

Shepard gritted his teeth, grasping at the floor as he pushed through the fatigue in his muscles, the burning in his thighs, and the stinging in his back as he rose to his feet again.

"Now what have you learned, recruit?" his drill sergeant shouted back at him.

"Never stay down, sir!" Shepard shouted back obediently.

A heavy boot went flying into his chest, sending him back into the wall.

"What the hell did you say, recruit?"

"Never stay down!" Shepard shouted back up at the man, clenching his hands into fists as he slid himself back up the wall and onto his feet.

"Damn right, never stay down!" His drill sergeant blared at him again, grabbing onto the color of his thin uniform and pulling him close enough that he could smell the smoke of cigarettes on his breath.

"What the hell do you think happens when you stay down?"

"You lose, sir!" Shepard shouted back.

"You die, dumbass!" his drill sergeant yelled as he dropped Shepard roughly back on the ground. "You get your ass whooped and you don't get to go back crying to momma!"

Shepard crawled back to his feet again, standing unsteadily but holding a strong posture for when another strike came in.

The wooden baton came flying in from the right side—Shepard could see it coming from the way that his muscles twitched right before it went flying. On instinct alone, he extended his right arm and caught the baton with an open palm, ignoring the sting as he clenched onto it and jerked as hard as he could.

His sergeant's lips twitched in a grin as Shepard pulled the baton out of his hands and dived in low, hoping to take out the man's legs from underneath him and send him sprawling to the ground for once.

As Shepard ran forward, the expected wall of flesh suddenly wasn't there any longer, instead, a long leg was placed underneath him, sending him flying back to the ground as the wooden stick gently poked into his spine.

"Haven't learned a damn thing, John," his sergeant said as he strolled around Shepard, lying on the ground and panting heavily, barely making any effort to get back up.

"What did I tell you?"

"Never stay down," Shepard muttered through gritted teeth.

"Never stay down!" his sergeant shouted back at him as he put a foot on his back. "Then what in Jesus' name are you doing?"

"I lose," Shepard said with a grimace.

"Damn right you just did!" his sergeant shouted as he lowered his head down towards Shepard. "You think the damn batarian pirates and turian raiders are just going to let you lie down for some beauty sleep in the middle of a god damned warzone?"

"No, sir," Shepard muttered back.

"No, sir!" his sergeant shouted back at him. "So what the hell are you doing lying there?"

Shepard didn't reply.

"What, did momma drop you off here so I could babysit your snivelling ass?"

"No," Shepard said quietly.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"Training."

"For what? Beating up bullies in middle school?"

"To fight," Shepard muttered.

"Then get up on your damn feet and fight back!"

Shepard pushed off the ground with a painful retort from his sore muscles as he swung his legs underneath him and jumped to his feet in one swift movement. That baton was coming flying towards him again—he knew it, even if he couldn't see it. In one smooth, instinctive movement, he drew his left flank backwards as the wooden rod grazed past his chest, but not enough to inflict any real pain.

As soon as the rod flew past him, he dashed forward and slung a flurry of blows onto his sergeant before the man could even finish with his swing, throwing the burly man onto the ground as Shepard stood victoriously atop him.

His sergeant stared at Shepard emotionlessly for a few moments before the corners of his lips curved in up a grin.

"Never… stop…"

Suddenly, Shepard found himself slung back onto the ground, the tables turned as his sergeant stood on top of him again.

"…fighting."

Shepard frowned slightly as the vivid images played through Shepard's mind like some kind of film—the man's pock-marked face with a single white scar on his left cheek and the beginnings of a beard which he shaved every other morning—it was all so clear. The twang of his wooden baton, the way in which the bamboo rod flexed and bent as he swung it, and the sting of its blow.

He wouldn't have remembered the man if he had met him this morning.

Shepard let out a deep breath as he pushed himself away from the railing.

To fight.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Anderson sighed as he fell back in his chair, picking the datapad back off the table as he did so.

He hadn't believed Captain Jordan when he told him that Shepard had left Salu Karah in shreds, but after seeing Shepard, it was tough not to believe him.

Anderson scrolled through the screen again—thirty-six confirmed casualties, a nuclear warhead shelter loaded with sixty-two tons of explosives, and only two claimed attackers—a certain Commander Shepard and another Tali'Zorah.

But the extent of Shepard's wounds—the medical report had been dreadfully detailed. He had heard more gruesome wounds from a death certificate, but certainly not a progress report. He had taken damage to nearly half of his internal organs, he had lost nearly two liters of blood, and somehow, he had still been standing there as if nothing had ever happened.

Anderson bit a lip as the next order of business rose up from Anderson's datapad.

Noveria.

Anderson hadn't been fully honest with Shepard—they had figured out the details of their next step some time ago, determining the location of one of Saren's liutenants—but Shepard simply wasn't in a good enough position to carry out the task at hand.

But there wasn't anybody else Anderson could trust.

The Alliance had already lost half of their infiltration squads—many to death and some to desertion—and out of those that remained, most were preoccupied with tasks that the other Admirals had given them. And out of the few that remained…

He didn't trust them to do it right.

Anderson sighed as he ran a hand over top his head, uncertain of whether his choice had been wise. They needed every advantage they could get in this war, especially at the rate at which their situation was rapidly deteriorating, but he needed to get things done.

If only it were as simple as sending in a squad of soldiers to kill everything in sight—that, perhaps, someone else could take care of. But that simply wouldn't do.

And T'Soni had specifically requested Shepard—there was also that to consider.

It would all work out in the end, Anderson told himself. Shepard desperately needed the rest—something that he hadn't been giving him as of late. Perhaps a few days on leave would set his head straight.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard continued strolling down the walkway, heading to a wide open room that opened up to the lakes and grassy platforms. A few people milled about, slowly making their away around the few market stalls where bored looking vendors leaned against their stands, waiting for someone to approach them so they could put on a show about how their product was better than any other competitor's.

"Shepard!" one of the vendors said—a dark skinned human who curiously wore a fedora with a long feather on the top of his bald head, and a purple suit which made him look like some kind of wizard. Shepard was familiar with him—he had known the man for a number of years in the past, but he had been pleasantly surprised to find that he had packed up shop and moved from Earth to the Citadel.

"Long time, no see!" the man continued as Shepard approached him market stall. "Didn't know if I'd ever see you again—last time you disappeared from the galaxy, it took two years 'till I saw you again."

Shepard put on a false smile for the familiar man. "It's only been a week and a half, Oswald."

"Then days are good," he said, smiling wide and showing off his golden tooth. "Can I get something for you?"

"Need some new armor," Shepard said. "Last suit got beat to hell and back."

Oswald frowned as he looked at Shepard. "That was the best piece I had in stock—how did you manage to tear through it so quickly?"

"Occupational hazards," Shepard said with a grimace. "Either way, I'd like a new one—same specifications, same size, etcetera. It worked well enough for as long as it lasted."

Oswald clicked his tongue as he sharply drew breath. "Won't do," he said with a shake of his head and big hat. "I haven't gotten any more of them from my producers—it'd probably take another two weeks to make a new set."

Shepard nodded a few times. "Well, what else do you have? I can't quite go around without armor. Unless I find someone else to buy from," Shepard said, turning away from him slightly.

"No, no!" Oswald shouted after him, stretching a hand out towards Shepard. "I've got something else—something better," he said with a suspicious smile.

"And what's that?" Shepard asked, stepping back to the stall.

"All new set of combat armor—just got it in from my manufacturers this morning," Oswald said as he leaned down and reached for a box at the bottom of his stall. With a grunt, he lifted it up and dropped it heavily onto the counter, pushing it towards Shepard.

"What is it?" Shepard asked, as he pulled the box close and opened the top up, revealing a shiny silver plate.

"They call it the Gunslinger's Gear, my manufacturers do," Oswald said as he smiled. "It's got all your regular attachments in place—magnetic weapons clasps on the back and hip, automated painkiller dispersion, built in squish skin for the punctures—"

"Squish skin?" Shepard asked.

"You know, squish skin," Oswald said with a shrug. "Sprays medigel all over you when you get shot."

Shepard nodded once as he continued his rant.

"Anyways, it's got all the regular stuff—but it's also got something else nice." Oswald picked the silvery chest plate and flipped it around, tapping a finger on the black fabric which coated the interior.

"Top of the line, all new stealth systems," Oswald said quietly. "It's technically not permitted—I got a few guys who said they filched it off the salarians," Oswald said with a lopsided smirk. "I know you won't squeal on me—not as long as I keep handing you the good stuff."

Shepard nodded as he looked at the armor. "Depends on the price. What's new about it?"

"Totally optimized dispersion mesh," Oswald said. "You hook it up to your stealth drives, and this thing will go invisible with only half the power draw that it takes to make a regular suit o' plate mail to disappear."

Shepard nodded again, keeping his face emotionless as he observed the armor. It was fairly similar to his old suit—albeit a little bit heavier.

"So, normally," Oswald continued, "I'd charge you an arm and a leg for something like this, but seeing as you kind of need your arm, and probably the leg too…"

"Get to the point," Shepard said.

"Seventy thousand credits—up front, if you please," Oswald said with a disarming smile.

Shepard silently pulled a card out of his pocket and put it into the man's hand. "Get it to docking bay D17—we're heading out in a few hours, so don't be late."

"Thank you kindly," Oswald said, displaying his golden tooth once more. "I'll have it there in ten minutes," he said as he packed the chest plate back into the box and sealed it shut.

Shepard nodded, waiting for him to finish the transaction and hand the card back to him.

Shepard began to turn away, before he stopped and looked at the man with a curious glance.

"By any chance, do you have any shotguns?"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Tali'Zorah!"

Tali turned her head around, scanning through the busy crowds to look for who might have been calling her name. An asari, poised and elegant, strode past her, a pair of humans laughing at each other's humor, a salarian occupied with some conversation with the disembodied voice coming from his omni-tool—but nobody calling Tali's name.

_Must have been hearing things,_ Tali thought as she shrugged to herself, turning back on her way.

She didn't quite know where she was going—to get away, maybe. Within the busy crowds, she could at least pretend she was just another, regular person—other than the fact people still avoided her and gave her strange looks every so often. Of course, it was still considerably better than her situation a few weeks ago—she wasn't being attacked by mysterious benefactors who had an unusual supply of quarian food, and there weren't mercenaries hunting her down because of the data she carried on her omni-tool. Despite that, things were simpler then—there were no moral dilemmas. There were bad people, and there were good people—bad people like Markus, Fist, and Isaac, or Saren—and then good people, like Kaidan and Garrus and Shepard.

But how the lines had smudged.

"Tali'Zorah!"

Tali turned around again, this time more quickly in the hopes of catching where she was hearing her name being recited before the person who was calling her had a chance to perhaps shrink back into the crowd. But still, nobody was out of the ordinary.

_Too much stress_, Tali concluded. She shook her head, taking a deep breath to try and blow off the muddled mess of emotions in her mind—the same muddle which Tali had almost grown used to, if not for the fact the muddle of emotions seemed to be changing every day she spent closer to Shepard.

"Tali!"

Tali spun around again, this time catching a three fingered hand on her shoulder as an unknown salarian reached out and grabbed her gently.

But not unknown, Tali realized, as she looked at the man more closely. She had barely recognized him—as he was only wearing a cheap looking, brown colored suit—but she recognized the face in a moment.

"Iroliseth?"

"Tali," the salarian said with a smile. "I didn't know if I would ever find you again—it took me a long time to even find out what your name was."

Tali stopped and looked at him curiously, confused at why he would have wanted to find her. After all, it certainly didn't seem they had anything further to discuss.

"Did you… need something?" Tali asked.

"I never got the chance to properly thank you," Iroliseth began as he gestured for Tali to keep walking. "I… really appreciate what you did. I know that most people would have simply left Saleon's message to the cosmic winds."

"Oh," Tali said. "It was no problem."

"I doubt that," Saleon said with a chuckle. "Come, follow me," he said with another wave of his hand. With a slight shrug, Tali followed after him as they ducked through the crowds.

"You know, it was tough to find you," Saleon said as he glanced back at Tali for a moment. "Even with my connections, it took a few days for them to even find a list of quarians who've been on the Citadel. Luckily, none of them looked quite like you."

"But you've changed the veil," Iroliseth added. "I wasn't quite sure it was you—but I had to take a gamble."

"Why did you find me?" Tali asked again.

"I told you," Iroliseth said. "I never got the chance to really thank you." As he finished his statement, he came to a stop, standing in front of a large neon sign in the shape of a comet which carried the words "Nova Lounge" above it.

"They've changed the name since I've last been here," Iroliseth said as he stepped towards the large glass doors. "But it's the same place—I'm sure of it."

Tali followed him curiously, slightly suspicious of what he was doing. She loosened her shotgun on her back—just in case she might find some reason to need it—and glanced around to make sure nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

The bar felt too much like Chora's Den—bright lights, loud music, and the occasional drunkard hobbling out the front door. That memory alone gave her slight halt as she passed through the boundaries laid out by the large glass windows and doors.

"Come on," Iroliseth said, gesturing to the stairs inside the doors. Next to the stairs, a turian stood by idly, a pistol proudly gleaming on his hip, though Tali could tell that the man likely rarely used the thing other than to intimidate drunken customers who wouldn't cooperate.

"The quarian can't come in," the turian said almost immediately as he glanced at Tali's hooded figure, making her frown slightly and consider putting her own intimidating feature hanging at her back to good use.

"Yes, she will," Iroliseth said without hesitation as he handed a card to the bouncer, who snatched it from him and examined it for a moment.

"My apologies, Mr. Sollen," the turian instantly said, backing away slightly as he gestured with his hands for them to continue up the stairs. "I wasn't aware that you were one of the proprietary owners."

Iroliseth shot Tali a wry smile as they continued up the stairs, loud music with heavy bass thumping and shaking Tali's bones as they made their way between the tables and the dancing crowds.

Iroliseth steadily made his way through the crowds until they arrived at series of rooms in the back closed off with tinted glass, which slid open to allow him in once he displayed his special card. As Tali stepped in behind him, the glass doors slid shut with a slight whoosh as Iroliseth sat down on the red colored couch which encircled the round table placed in the middle of the room. The music was quieter in here—just loud enough for them to hear, but not so loud that it would drown out some casual conversation.

"Sit down, Tali," Iroliseth said with a warm smile. Sitting down uncomfortably—in the event that she would need to quickly make an escape—she looked over at Iroliseth curiously, still wondering what kind of "thanks" he was trying to make. His simple "thank you" had certainly sufficed.

"I wanted to tell you that I haven't been putting Saleon's money to waste," Iroliseth said.

When Tali didn't respond, he continued. "Instead of wasting his money on useless luxuries… I decided that I would use it to make people's lives better. I've been investing money into a relief program in the wards—they find people who don't have enough money to eat, and then they give them a place to sleep as well as food and stuff."

Tali merely nodded a few times. "What about this?"

"This bar?" Iroliseth asked. "It gives me some extra income—which I can use to support these relief ventures. I have to say—it feels good. I never realized how horrible that old, stuffed up apartment building was."

Tali nodded a few times again. "Was there… anything else?"

Iroliseth sighed quietly.

"I also wanted to ask you what Saleon was doing before… you caught up to him," Iroliseth said as he looked at Tali with his large, glassy eyes.

"Growing organs," Tali said simply. She recalled that sensitivity had been something she held on to during their last meeting—but now, for whatever reason, she felt it wasn't important.

Iroliseth nodded. "Inside of patients."

"How did you know? Last time, you seemed to figure it out for yourself."

"One time," Iroliseth began, as he leaned back in his chair, "He explained to me his plans. We both worked in an old omni-tool factory—low pay, tiring hours, and no real rewards. Saleon had worked as a doctor for some time, but he said that nobody was looking for anybody that worked in his field any longer."

"He told you that he was going to grow organs?"

"Not outright," Iroliseth said with a tilt of his head. "But I figured it out. He mentioned that the best vessel to grow organs in would be where they would be used—but I never gave it much thought. Until you said what you said."

Saleon sighed as he leaned back. "I never thought that he would have done what he did. But that's what I was meaning to ask—how did you find him?"

"One of my friends used to work in C-Sec," Tali found herself explaining. "He really wanted to find Doctor Saleon—it was like a mission of his."

"A grudge," Iroliseth said unflinchingly. Tali nodded in response.

"We found his ship, and then… we were forced to do what we did."

"What did you do?"

Tali paused for a moment. "We blew him up."

Iroliseth's eyes widened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, putting a hand up to his mouth. He was like that for a while, distantly staring at Tali.

"Do you want something to drink?" he suddenly said, standing up from his chair and heading to a machine at the back of the room that Tali hadn't noticed. He slipped a glass from the side of the machine and put it underneath the nozzle, tapping a few buttons and dispensing a greenish color liquid.

"I couldn't drink much," Tali explained. "Quarians are dextro-based—and, our weak immune systems make it difficult—"

"There are drinks for quarians, here," Iroliseth interrupted.

Tali paused for a moment. She hadn't ever considered drinking—even as an outlet—as it wasn't something too common on the Fleet. Even then, she had seen drunkards hobbling their way around the bar, too confused to even understand where they were.

"I'll take one," Tali said.

Iroliseth tapped on another couple of buttons and a sealed, cylindrical glass tube fell from some unknown chamber, filled with a rose colored liquid that had glimmering bubbles that silently floated inside of the vessel. Iroliseth handed it over to Tali and sat back down in his seat with his strange green liquid.

"What was your father like?" Iroliseth suddenly asked as Tali was busy fiddling with the flipping top on the container which should allow her to drink safely.

"What do you mean?" Tali said, confused at the sudden question.

"Back in my old apartment," Iroliseth said, "You said that I was lucky to have had a father who cared about me."

Tali nodded slightly.

"What was your father like?" Iroliseth asked again.

"He was… strong… confidant… and always worked for the good of society," Tali began to say.

"But he wasn't perfect," Iroliseth finished, nodding knowingly.

Tali took a sip of her drink, cringing slightly at the unexpected bitter taste but enjoying the feel of the cool bubbles slipping down her throat.

"He tried," Tali said with a slight chuckle. "He was an admiral on the Migrant Fleet—but he was also one of the best engineers, too."

Tali sighed slightly as Iroliseth nodded along with what she was saying. Tali took another sip of her drink.

"He never shirked his duties—the Fleet would always come first, above anything else."

"Even above family?"

"Especially above family," Tali said with a frown beneath her mask. "Even when my mother was… still alive…" Tali said uncomfortably. "He would usually spend his days with the other admirals or captains, and his evenings in his workshop."

Tali took a big gulp of her drink, noticing that if she downed larger amounts at a time, the bitterness seemed to go away.

"Your mother died?"

"A few years ago," Tali said regretfully. "There was a failure in the air filters—my mother wasn't in her suit when it happened."

"I'm sorry," Iroliseth said. "Were you two close?"

Tali nodded a few times before finishing the rest of her drink. "Sometimes, she would take me out to the markets, or read books to me. She really liked the old books that talked about our homeworld—I guess she got that from my father."

"Homeworld?" Iroliseth asked with a tilt of his head.

"It's not important," Tali said as she shook her head. "Could I get another of these?" Tali asked as she tapped on the empty drink vessel in her hands.

With a nod, Iroliseth stood back up and got her another drink as she leaned back comfortably in her chair, taking a deep breath.

"I guess I never realized how much I missed my father until my mother died," Tali said. Iroliseth handed her another of the rose colored drinks, letting her handle the output mechanism.

"Sometimes, we don't know what we have until we lose them," Iroliseth said as he sat back down in his chair, idly sipping at his green colored juice.

Tali would have given up anything to have her mother back—or even a relationship with her father where she didn't have to preface every sentence with "I know this isn't about work, but…"

And Tali would have given up anything to have Shepard back.

She sighed as Iroliseth continued to look at her.

Not the Shepard she had seen recently—the Shepard who nearly killed Tali, the Shepard who could barely stand on his own feet—but Shepard, the hero. The Shepard who had valiantly come to her rescue, the Shepard who had generously taken along a childish quarian onto his mission to save the galaxy, the Shepard who had given her the noisemaker which lulled her to sleep even now.

To see the same Shepard—strong, confident, and unwavering—Tali would have given up many things.

"Do you think that… people can change?"

"Of course," Iroliseth replied without hesitation.

"Can bad people become good people?"

"It all depends on what side you look at it from," Iroliseth began. "Sometimes, the best thing to do isn't always the right thing—and sometimes, the right thing isn't always the best thing to do."

Tali nodded silently a few times.

Was that what kept her on the Normandy? The childish hope that, if she were to look into Shepard's eyes, he would suddenly become the man that she remembered so effortlessly sweeping past Markus' thugs and saving her from certain death?

Or was her nostalgia blurring her hindsight so strongly that Shepard felt like the only positive thing in those horrible, cruel days?

Nothing ever seemed to turn out right—first, her mother had died, then her father had grown even more distant than he already had been, then her pilgrimage had been a failure, then she had almost been killed, and then…

Then Shepard had come along.

It was too late to rectify everything else—her father was who he was any everything else was already in the past—but what about Shepard? Was it too late for Shepard?

"What are you thinking about?" Iroliseth asked as he looked at Tali, still silent and staring off into space.

"I'm thinking that I need another drink."

* * *

Hey, everybody! Sorry that this chapter is a day late-there have been a considerable number of problems with the whole writing process that have reared up in the recent past that I had to address before I continued on. With any luck, the problem will dissipate.

I'd like to give a special thanks to Zephyrical, who provided a considerable amount of input in terms of the problem and the major issues that I've yet to address, and it was due to his insight that I began to seek out ways to fix those problem.

I'd also like to thank Azzorath-for being an awesome beta reader, as usual, but also for helping me through the same problems and issues.

I don't think there's too much to say here, but thanks for reading this far if you have, and thanks for all the follows and favorites! They mean a lot to me, even if it's only a mere button press away.

So, question of the upload (which isn't quite a thing, but perhaps it needs to be); what issues would you like to see fixed? While this might be my story, I'd certainly rather write a story with the guidance of an audience than write a crappy story without an audience at all.

With that said... I'll see you all later!


	24. A Chance

**:: Chapter Twenty Four :: **A Chance **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_These words…_

_These sights, their meaning is dissolving_

_When the past is revealed in each glance at pictures_

_The softness dies under the weight of relentless regrets_

_-Inborn Suffering-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Shepard silently slipped away from the main stretch of roads and onto one of the long arms heading out towards the Normandy, the silvery hull of the frigate gleaming underneath the constant sunlight that filled the Citadel, even in these late hours.

Shepard slipped into the airlock and waited as the pressure balanced between the two sides before he continued on into the ship.

"Morning, Commander," Joker called out to him as he quietly walked by. Shepard stopped, slightly amazed at the fact that the pilot seemed to always be awake whenever he passed by.

"Is Tali back yet?" Shepard asked, turning around to face the man.

"Haven't seen her," Joker said with a shrug. "I think everybody else is back, though."

Shepard nodded quietly as he turned around and headed down the stairway as usual, hanging a right down on the second floor as he made his way into his cabin, letting the door close behind him before he sat down on the edge of his bed.

His old armor sat in a scarred, black heap on the ground, just as he had left it, while a large box sat proudly on top of his desk, the same one that Oswald had displayed to him earlier. Beside that was another box—this one longer and narrower.

Shepard stood back up, walking towards the packages as he picked up the longer box.

He slipped open the top of the package and slid out a long shotgun, covered in a shiny black coat of paint and detailed with yellow paint and lights. Along the side of the barrel, in a similar fluorescent yellow paint, the word Scorpion was proudly emblazoned.

It was quite a feat at how quickly technology seemed to advance—even in an age where the most illustrious of dreams couldn't see much further into the future, life managed to find a way to continue advancing. Even though Shepard's old shotgun was only a year and a half old, this new one in front of him trumped the old in almost every way.

Faster bullet propulsion, better recoil reduction systems, longer bullet fly time, tighter spread. Shepard slipped his old shotgun off his hip, gently placing it down on the table as he clipped on the new one, enjoying the slightly-heftier shotgun hanging on his him, gleaming silently.

It would work well. It was time for a change.

Shepard solemnly picked up his old shotgun—the worn and battered rifle which never seemed to give up, even after the paint had been chipped off bit by bit and after every square inch of the steel had been marred and dented from being dropped, shot and thrown.

Shepard ran a finger across the series of seven notches along the bottom of his shotgun—Kurt, Roy, Winston, Andrew, Emmanuel, Randall, and Boyd—the seven lives that fate had slipped away from him.

Shepard sighed quietly before he tossed the aged shotgun into the scrap heap of his armor to dispose of later.

Barely making a sound, Shepard unclipped his weapons and gently stowed them into a pile on his desk, before he loosened the buttons on his Alliance uniform and turned the lights off, sliding underneath the covers and allowing himself to silently slip away in the darkness.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Joker leaned back comfortably in the reclining seat which spent most of his days and nights in, closing his eyes as he adjusted the cap on his head, running a hand through his hair.

Usually, when it was into the early hours of the morning, he could always sneak a couple of naps in without anybody noticing. It was an interesting game that he had devised—sleep as much as possible without the captain finding out. As a result, Joker had become an extremely light sleeper, though he still managed to squeeze in his daily quota of naps despite it.

It was due to this that he heard the airlock subtly sliding open, the faint whooshing that might have come from the ventilation systems or another source the only hint that someone was moving through his territory.

Another, more obvious hint was the loud, banging footsteps and slight groaning. Joker spun around in his chair, raising an eyebrow at the spectacle of Tali stepping through the airlock with no small support from the railings along the side of the wall.

"You're back," Joker said with a chuckle. "Didn't hurt a leg again?"

"No, Joker," Tali said as she shot him a sidelong glance. "I just decided to hug a burr for something to do."

"A burr?"

"Burr—those fuzzy things that I always see on the pictures of Earth."

"The plants?"

"Not the plants, you bosh'tet," Tali said as she steadied herself on the railing and continued to stare at Joker suspiciously. "You know—burrs. Four legs? Fuzzy?"

"Bears?"

"Whatever you humans call them," Tali said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "What's happening, anyways?

"Nothing much, just waiting on burrs," Joker said as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, tell Shepard that I'm back now," Tali said.

"He's probably asleep," Joker said with a shrug. "Want me to wake him?"

"Asleep? At this time of day? What is it, nineteen hundred hours?"

"Three in the morning—I guess those burrs really make you lose track of time."

"Shut up about the burrs," Tali said as she shook her head. "I'm going to sleep."

Joker raised an eyebrow as he watched Tali stumbling her way down the hallway, occasionally making some statement in that flowing language which seemed to escape the capabilities of the translators which most people had on their person at all times.

He chuckled to himself a few times as he shook his head at the obvious illness from which she was suffering. Even he took his ale better than she did—and he wasn't a heavy drinker by any means, either.

Joker turned his chair back around and leaned back, resting his hands behind his head as he closed his eyes and listened to Tali's rhythmic stride clanging along the metal floor fade away.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Fire.

Consuming all that it touches.

The blazes of the fire burned through the old woods, tearing through the trees and turning them into blackened husks and ashes as they crumbled and collapsed to the ground, throwing sparks in their wake and setting their brethren alight.

The faint red star hiding behind the snowy mountain tops eerily illuminated the scene, shadows from the flickers of the flames scattering through the destroyed branches.

"It is done," a voice boomed from behind. The man, tall, lanky, but with a strength that emanated from within his slender frame, tossed the burnt embers of a match to the ground as he grinned cruelly.

The forests continued to burn, falling and crashing to the ground. Once, this had been a place of happiness. Once, this had been a place of peace.

Once the forests had stood strong, the trees tall and slender, holding their bushy boughs of leaves high above the ground, providing shelter from the heat and the rain. But then the drought had come—starving the trees, killing them softly. But still no rain would pour.

The trees had all dried, growing colder and emptier with the onset of the wintery winds which chilled and froze the life that had lived within the forests, leaving the forests silent and unmoving, even the leaves thrown to the ground in desperation.

Then it had rained—a warm rain that spat in the face of the cold winter, bringing new life to the trees and the forests. A warm rain that unfroze the slender branches, that brought the small creatures scurrying back in their homes and beginning life anew, with the chance of survival despite the bitter and endless winds that constantly blew across them.

But the cold, empty winds blew the rain away, blocking the forest from its gentle touch and instead coating the lands in an impenetrable shield of frost that let nothing live. Even the fragile rain was held tight by the frosts, nearly frozen by the cold touch of the unstoppable winds, but then, the ice relented.

The frost departed the lands with the onset of spring, pulling back as the skies grew blue and the grass began to grow, bushy green tufts sprouting between the yellowed frames of their dead ancestors. Life would carry on—but the icy winds had left the forest in shambles.

The warm rain fled away from the frosts, hiding from the inevitable rise of winter. Even in the chill spring air, the gentle mist from the warm rains in the distance was enough to satiate the dry forests—because life would always carry on.

But now it was all gone.

It was all before Shepard now, burning to the ground.

"You fool," the demon standing behind him remarked.

"I did nothing wrong," Shepard retorted, bending down on his knees as he reached for the ashes of the burnt grasses beneath his feet.

"You did everything wrong," the demon shot back with his booming voice that send vibrations through the forest floor and sparked the fires faster.

"It wasn't my fault," Shepard told himself, pulling his hand through the ashes. "It was you—it was you who did this. It was you who forced me into this."

"It was you!" the demon shouted, his voice so deafeningly loud as suddenly all of the fires vanished in a flash as the forest grew dark.

The fires slowly began to relight from the embers, a last torment onto the charred and shattered forest that once lived.

"There was nothing I could have done," Shepard told himself again, clenching his eyes tightly.

"Are you so self-righteous you cannot witness your own failures?" the demon taunted from behind him.

"I did nothing wrong," Shepard told himself again.

"Don't lie to yourself, Shepard," Emmanuel said from behind him, his tone firm and unwavering as the medic's voice always had been. "Tell yourself the truth."

"I did nothing wrong."

"Lies," Emmanuel said with a sad shake of his head. "The last refuge of a failed human being."

"You killed us, Shepard," Boyd said from behind him, his voice dripping with betrayal. "You _killed_ us."

"It wasn't my fault."

"You _killed_ us!" Boyd shouted again, grabbed Shepard by his collar and hefting him to his feet. "Look at my face! Look at me!"

Shepard wrenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see.

"Look!" Boyd shouted as Shepard's eyes shot open, taking in the horribly marred and rotted face. Blood streamed down from the skin that had been torn from the muscle, bones protruded in shattered pieces, and his eyes were empty, cold, black gaps in the torn wreck of his face.

"How could you abandon us, Shepard?" Boyd said without anger, pleading to Shepard as his tattered visage softened and appeared to almost stare through Shepard with a look of disappointment and loss. "Why would you leave us behind?"

"I—I didn't leave you behind!"

Boyd threw Shepard to the ground with a disgusted shake of his head. Shepard closed his eyes, taking heavy breaths as he tried to keep himself upright.

"It's okay, Shepard," a familiar feminine voice with that strange accent said from behind him.

Tali stepped to Shepard's side, sitting down beside him in the ashes, gently putting a hand on Shepard's shoulder.

"It wasn't my fault," Shepard reiterated, the words barely holding meaning any longer.

"Why do you tell yourself that?" Tali said softly as she leaned in close to him and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

"It wasn't me," Shepard said through a choked sob. He felt Tali's gentle hand on his back.

"But it was," Tali said in a voice so serene he barely understood the meaning of the words.

"It wasn't," Shepard said, unable to find the courage to look into Tali's eyes.

"You tried to kill me, John," Tali said with a sudden coldness.

Shepard turned his head and stared at Tali, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief to see that she was still just as he remembered her.

"It wasn't me," Shepard pleaded. "It was… it was something else…"

"It was _you_," Tali said. She lifted her hand slowly off of Shepard back and lifted it up to her purple hued mask, gently reached underneath her veil. She pressed a button on the back of her neck, and the mask hissed for a moment as it slowly fell away.

"You tried to kill me," the burned and blackened face underneath said with eyes filled with contempt and malice, the purest utter hatred he had ever witnessed. The winds began to swirl around him, picking up speed as they howled and hissed as they ashes to the grown were thrown into the air.

"No!" Shepard shouted at the abomination, scarred and burnt, bleeding and torn.

The eyes—they were all wrong. Tali's eyes weren't filled with hatred, or selfishness, or cruelty. That wasn't Tali—it was something else.

"You're not Tali!" Shepard shouted aloud.

The winds suddenly stopped as the ashes slowly floated back to the ground. The abomination in front of him stared through Shepard and slowly faded back into dust, leaving Shepard alone in the midst of the burning forest.

"You're a fool, Shepard," the demon's booming voice said once again. "The forests are gone, your refuge has been shattered, your only reprise an enemy."

"I can rebuild," Shepard said. "The forest will regrow—everything will be just like it was!"

"How?" The demon shouted mockingly as the fires flared up again, turning the remaining charred wood into ashes before Shepard's eyes.

"I won't give up!"

"Shepard," Tali said again, behind him just as before. Shepard stood stiffly, unwilling to turn and face the doppelganger.

"Shepard!"

"You're a lie!" Shepard shouted, unwilling to turn.

"What are you talking about?" Tali said, spinning him around and looking into his eyes. For a brief moment, Shepard recoiled, pulling an arm back to strike the apparition—but then he spotted Tali—the real Tali.

With eyes glittering like silvery pools of moonlight, those same eyes that were always filled with such a purity that Shepard couldn't help but admire.

"Tali?" Shepard whispered, staring at the purple suited quarian standing in front of him.

"You've changed, Shepard," Tali said as she slowly shook her head.

There was sorrow in those eyes, too.

"You've done horrible things—why? Why would you?"

"I… I couldn't help it… it wasn't my fault," Shepard stammered at the accusatory expression in her eyes and her posture.

"I'm sorry, Shepard," Tali said as she stepped forward and embraced him, holding him tightly in her arms.

They stayed like that for a few moments before Tali stepped backwards, putting her hands behind her back as she looked down at Shepard's feet.

"It has to be done," Tali said mournfully.

Tali lunged forward, Shepard's dagger in her hands as she drove the pointed tip through his skin and into his chest, the brutal pain stealing the strength from Shepard's legs as he collapsed to the floor, powerless to resist.

Tali pulled the knife from his chest, red blood dripping from the blade and onto his stomach as Tali stared into Shepard's eyes regretfully.

"I could have loved you, Shepard."

Tali swung her dagger forwards, bringing it across his throat as and leaving a long gash, blood pouring from the wound as air helplessly bubbled through the torrent of blood.

Shepard's eyes shot open as he gasped for air, clutching at his wounded throat as he sprung from his bed. Shepard stood stiffly for a few moments, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

He would never be free.

Shepard collapsed back into his bed, his legs weakening as the simple statement rang through his mind.

He would never be free.

No matter which way he turned, no matter what he did, no matter how hard he fought, there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

His own demons would never let him go—not until he was dead, not until his body was a scarred and ruined heap of flesh and blood just as he had left his companions.

Shepard let out a long sigh as he let his breathing slow and his heart stop its incessantly fast pumping. It was still only four-hundred hours—few people would be awake. It would give him a chance to merely wander about the deathly quiet steel vessel, quelling the uneasy thoughts in his mind.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Kethrel's omni-tool blinked brightly a few time, the dim orange glow faintly outlining the darkened features of the room.

"Kethrel? Come in?" a disembodied voice said from the speakers on his wrist, static making his speech difficult to pick out.

"I'm here," Kethrel said, trying to tweak his connection in some way that would reduce the amount of interference.

"I'm getting a lot of static on my end—where are you?"

"Near Saren's ship—I just got back a few hours ago."

"That would explain it," came the reply. "We've gotten reports that Sovereign has some kind of jamming technology that makes it difficult to send communications through."

Kethrel nodded—even though nobody was there to witness it. In the short time he had spent around Sovereign, he had noticed his electronics had all been acting oddly.

"This is a secure channel, right?" Kethrel asked, nervously looking around in the dark room even though there were no cameras or microphones hidden away as far as he could tell with a quick sweep of his omni-tool. Saren had made no attempt at hiding his expansive powers—from the moment he had accidentally insulted him, up until now, he had seen legions of geth—hundreds of the lumbering metal beasts—dropping from shuttles like some kind of relief cargo, and decimating the defences on the ground. If they weren't Alliance soldiers, Kethrel would have been terrified.

"We've ensured that a sufficient level of encryption has been placed onto this communication channel—it's an uncrackable line. Has Saren been keeping his end of the bargain?"

"Yes," Kethrel said. "So far, he's sent me along to oversee some of his ground operations to ensure their success—I was with them when they attacked Tamahera's Alliance outpost."

"Good," came the reply. There was a pause for a moment. "What are his plans? Is he going to continue pushing the Alliance back?"

"I'm not certain—he hasn't spoken to me much," Kethrel said. "But he's sending a full scale assault onto New Canton next week—he's sending me in to oversee one of the ground squads."

"Ground squads?" the voice said incredulously. "With geth or with mercenaries?"

"Geth, I presume," Kethrel said.

"That's ridiculous—geth are a networked intelligence. They don't need commanders on the ground—they can have orders wired to them instantaneously."

"I'm not sure," Kethrel said. "Saren said that I'm most effective on the ground."

"You're a good fighter, but that's suicide—New Canton is one of the Alliance's biggest cities. And big cities mean a big garrison."

Kethrel grimaced to himself.

"Be careful," the voice said again. "I don't know what he's thinking, putting you on the ground like that, but I doubt he has your preservation in mind."

"I'll be careful," Kethrel said.

"Then, what else? What else is Saren planning? Does he truly think he's going to destroy the Council with just geth?"

"No," Kethrel said. He didn't know much—he had only heard Saren talking about it to an asari who he had seen when he first arrived—but he knew a little.

"They're trying to find something called the Conduit," Kethrel said. "They don't know where it is, but the way Saren was talking about it, it sounded like he really needed it."

"The Conduit," came the reply. "Find out more about it—the more we know about Saren's plans, the more readily we can take advantage of his ambition."

"Absolutely," Kethrel said with a wry smile. Despite all of Saren's might and power, he could tell that the man was driven by a sole force—to crush and to conquer. Like a mighty bull, he could easily be coaxed in the right direction, and at the last moment, they would release him to tear the Alliance to shreds.

"Then stay safe, Kethrel," the voice said again. "Once you find something new, send us another communication."

The blinking light flickered out of existence as Kethrel's omni-tool dimmed, plunging him into darkness. He sighed as he considered what command had told him—was Saren leading him into a trap?

Only time would tell.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard sat at his workbench, mindlessly fiddling with parts, throwing together a few gears and motors and them pulling them apart, finding some way to pass the time.

It was a simple way to get his mind off of things—hiding within the non-judgemental, safe, and perfectly moral electronics didn't make him question himself or wonder how long it would take until he killed someone he cared about.

Shepard rolled together a motor and a few gears, a couple metal bars and a button. He pressed the button, and the metal arms of the contraption began to rotate in opposite directions, awkwardly walking around on Shepard's desk like some kind of silly creature.

Shepard's door buzzed, and he quickly stood up, pressing the button on his little contraption as he walked over to the door.

He silently prayed simultaneously that it both was and wasn't Tali—he didn't know which option he would have preferred.

The door slid open, and—to his slight disappointment—Kaidan was standing there, wearing a simple blue Alliance uniform rolled up to the sleeves.

"Hey, Kaidan," Shepard said casually as the man gave Shepard an informal salute. "What's the matter?"

"I… wanted to ask you something," Kaidan began as he stepped into Shepard's room.

"There's this group of bandits… they're calling themselves the Band of Biotics," Kaidan began to say, visibly agitated.

"Calm down," Shepard said as he extended a hand. Kaidan took a deep breath and steadied himself in the middle of the room.

"Right," Kaidan said as he briefly shook his head. "The thing is, they weren't really that special so long ago—they made some threats, but they never actually did anything wrong."

"And that changed," Shepard said, guessing the man's intentions.

"They kidnapped a politician," Kaidan stated with a sigh. "A man named Albert Burns. The Alliance has a bounty out for any soldiers who are willing to take them down, so I wouldn't be surprised if someone else made it to them in the next couple days."

Shepard nodded a few times. "So, we need to get in, kill the bandits, and rescue the hostage? Then pick up our reward?"

"Not quite," Kaidan said with a nervous glance to the side. "The bandits, they're all very well trained biotics, and they run in a squad together—they're very well coordinated."

"Then what's the problem?" Shepard said nonchalantly.

"Those bandits… I went to BAaT with them."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Bradley crouched down low, his eyes level with the workbench as he squinted at the small chip on his desk which he had picked out of the defunct rifle someone had given him earlier today. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his thick beard, searching for where the problem had likely originated.

"Aha," Bradley muttered to himself as he noticed a few of the connections melted away—likely because some idiot had run the weapon on full auto for too long. So many of the new recruits didn't understand the simple fact that just because you _could_ bypass the automated heat dispersion locks, it didn't mean that you _should._

Bradley stood back up and turned around to rummage through one of the drawers he had haphazardly filled with a variety of equipment in the past few weeks which he had spent on this facility. Grabbing out a couple of parts to fix the damaged chip, he leaned back towards the small piece of metal on his desk, positioning a magnifying glass attached to a metal arm over top the chip.

With the precision of a jeweler, he quickly applied the conductive gel to one of the damaged terminals, then quickly ran over it with an ultraviolet light, hardening the gel so that it would stay in place. With a satisfied nod, he quickly began to apply the gel over the next terminal.

Bradley's door slammed open as a trio of men stormed into his workshop, causing him to spill conductive gel between two of the contacts. He frowned at the mess—which would take at least an extra few minutes to clean up—and observed the newcomers with his arms folded across his chest.

"Now look, you've gone and ruined it!" Bradley said as he eyed the first man in line.

"Bradley Kerris—you've heard about the transfer, we presume?"

"Damn right I have—and you'd be an idiot to think I'd move," Bradley said with a light chuckle. "I just got all my stuff in place! I had to spend the last two months remembering where'n the hell I put my thermal paste—and now that I got it all set up nicely, you're wanting me to move?"

"It's non-negotiable," another of the men said with a stern look at Bradley. "Your father specifically requested the transfer."

"Well, damn him too, then. Tell him what I just told you." Bradley leaned back in towards the damaged chip on his desk. "Actually, wait—I'll record it! Any of you got a datapad or something?"

"We were told to respect your reluctance," the first man said ominously. "But your compliance is required."

The third man, who had not yet spoken, pulled a small grey sphere out of a pocket in his suit and placed it onto the workbench in front of Bradley, wiping the grin off his face and replacing it with a grim expression.

"This is… not negotiable," the first man replied again, with a wry smile on his face.

Bradley took a deep breath, looking at the grey sphere.

"Damnit."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Garrus lifted the long rifle up to his eye as he looked down the scope, aiming down at a light at the far end of the armory as he slowly turned a knob on the edge of the barrel, properly sighting in the weapon.

"Just right," he muttered quietly as he admired his work with some satisfaction. The new rifle would serve him well in battle-with faster bullet propulsion and better penetration, even fewer foes would stand between him and justice.

"What are you wasting time with that over glorified handgun for?" Wrex's booming voice said from behind him and his small table fixed in the corner of the room. Garrus slowly turned around and shot Wrex a glance out of the corner of his eye as he lifted the rifle up to his shoulder.

"Well, this _handgun_can punch through an inch of solid steel," Garrus proclaimed proudly. "And a krogan's thick skull."

The corners of Wrex's lips turned up in a wicked grin as he watched the turian with amusement.

"And a shotgun can punch through a turian's tiny brain," Wrex said as he hefted the wide-barrelled shotgun at his hip. "And who needs precision when you've got twenty-four bullets?"

"Well," Garrus said as he gently placed his new rifle down on the table in front of him. "While you're busy running through the battlefield like-what were those things called? Pyjaks?-I'll be busy sighting down on your head."

"You wouldn't see me coming from behind you," Wrex said with a sly grin.

"Right," Garrus said, unconvinced. "Like I wouldn't hear the four-hundred pound krogan lumbering up behind me."

Wrex broke into throaty laughter as he threw the shotgun back down on his hip, watching Garrus with evident amusement. "You wouldn't last two shots," Wrex said with a chuckle.

"You wouldn't last one," Garrus shot back with an equally wry grin.

"Doesn't matter if your brain's on the floor," Wrex shot back at him.

Wrex clapped a heavy hand on Garrus' shoulder as he turned to face the elevator at the back of the room. "Then let's go shoot something."

"Now?" Garrus asked curiously. "It's three-hundred hours."

"So what?" Wrex said as he made his way towards the elevator with a shrug of his arms. "Not like they turn the damn lights off anyways."

"I think my agreement with C-Sec says that I'm not allowed to go on psychotic rampages with krogan," Garrus said dryly as he leaned against his table.

Wrex merely chuckled a few times as he waved Garrus over. With a roll of his eyes, Garrus collapsed the rifle on his table and stowed it on his back as he stepped into the elevator beside Garrus.

"So, what's the plan?" Garrus asked the massive krogan as he stood beside him in the cramped elevator.

"I know a place," Wrex said with a shrug. Garrus looked at him expectantly, but when Wrex was not forthcoming with any answers, he merely shrugged and followed him as he stepped up the stairs of the Normandy.

"Hey, Tali," Garrus shot at the purple figure slowly walking along the edge of the hallway while leaning against the far railing.

Tali glanced over at him momentarily, with a slightly dazed expression as Wrex and Garrus walked by.

"What are you doing up?" Garrus asked her as she looked at them curiously.

"Burrs," Tali said with a shrug.

Garrus watched Tali hobbling along the wall with a confused expression on his face as she slipped past the elevator and disappeared back towards the chamber filled with sleeping pods.

"Come on," Wrex shouted back at him from the top of the stairs. "We're wasting daylight."

"Right," Garrus said with a quiet chuckle.

They wordlessly made their way past the snoring pilot sitting in his tall chair as usual, and made their way out of the airlock and into the eternal sunlight that filled the Citadel at all hours.

"There's a shooting range not too far from here," Wrex said as he lumbered down the stairways and into the small stream of people walking through the area. "Old buddy of mine used to run it."

"Targets?" Garrus said with slight disdain. "What's the fun in that?"

"Live targets," Wrex said with a sly glance over at Garrus, who merely looked back at him with confusion.

"Live?"

"You'll see," Wrex said dismissively as he pushed his way through the crowds.

They headed down the main walkways for a while before Wrex suddenly veered off down a sketchy looking alleyway where a couple of seedy-looking turians and a human leaned against the wall, watching them approach suspiciously.

Wrex slipped down yet another alleyway as they passed by the few suspicious looking people and through a heavy metal door into an open chamber with a metal desk at the front of the room.

"Belaris," Wrex shouted at the man lounging back in his leather chair with his feet and his shiny black boots sitting on the desk in front of him.

"Wrex," Belaris said back casually, barely even moving as he watched the two newcomers entering in. "Nobody's in the sim right now-if you were after the guy with the blonde hair, he left an hour ago."

"No victims today, Belaris," Wrex said casually as he stepped towards the door at the back of the room. "Kick up the sim-me and my turian buddy are going in."

Belaris raised an eyebrow at the pair of them standing outside of the door. With a quiet sigh, he slid his boots off the table and back down on the floor as he leaned towards the terminal on the top of his desk.

"You know the drill, Wrex-put your weapons through the scanner and head through. Which sim do you want? We managed to pick up a fresh load from Pinnacle the other week."

"Pinnacle?" Garrus asked curiously. "Isn't that a secured Alliance station?"

Belaris looked between Garrus and Wrex with a worried expression on his face. "He's not going to squeak, is he?" Belaris said.

"Nah," Wrex said with an uncaring wave of his hand. Belaris continued to watch the two of them for a moment before he shrugged and continued to tap on the terminal in front of him.

"Load us up Volcano," Wrex shouted back at him as he slid his shotgun into a small opening beside the door, a beam of light quickly flickering across the weapon before lighting up green and beeping it's affirmation. Garrus reluctantly did the same with his sniper rifle.

"All ready," Belaris shouted back at them. "Just go through the doors and leave your guns next to the entrance."

"What is this?" Garrus asked Wrex curiously as he nonchalantly stepped through the door and into a wide open room that was completely black save for the few glassy lights on the ceiling which were only dimly lit.

"You'll see," Wrex said with a sly grin at Garrus as he tossed his shotgun into a small bucket in the corner of the room. Garrus merely shrugged and did the same with his weapon, convinced that if he needed to, the pistol in his right boot would do him well enough against a single, headstrong opponent.

"Simulator loading," a robotic voice said as the lights slowly dimmed until the room was pitch black.

"Volcano," the same robotic voice said as the black walls and floors suddenly transformed, filling with dirty, red colored sand, browned and yellowed grasses, and a few metal shacks off in the distance leaning up against a steep cliff face which rose up into the reddish tinged sky.

Garrus stared in amazement at the scene that grew and expanded before him, a long bridge across a river of freely flowing lava which snaked it's way through the ruddy dirt and in between a couple of the shacks before disappearing into the distance.

"Close your mouth and shoot," Wrex commanded with a chuckle as he pulled the shotgun-the very same one that he had held earlier-off of his hip and readied it in his hands. To his amazement, Garrus pulled his own long sniper rifle off his back and extended it, looking through the scope-which, to his own merit was perfectly calibrated-and shook his head silently at the world around him.

"What is this?" Garrus asked as Wrex slowly made his way towards one of the metal shacks.

"Me winning," Wrex said as he loosed a round into an angry looking varren which had materialized behind them.

"That's one," Wrex said with a loud laugh as he ran over top of the dissipating corpse of the dead creature and towards the rising horde of strange looking creatures that were appearing in the distance.

Without wasting another moment, Garrus lifted his rifle up to his eye and sighted down on a strange looking creature with a tall, red carapace and ended it's virtual life as Wrex fired a useless shot at the already dead creature.

"One," Garrus shouted back at the krogan, who shot back a venomous glance at him.

"That one was mine!" Wrex shouted back at him.

"And that's why you don't use shotguns," Garrus said with a chuckle.

With renewed vigor, Wrex dashed away from the open terrain where Garrus had a constant advantage and into a tumble of molten rocks and boulders where the ravenous creatures slipped through the cracks where Wrex's loud shotgun retorts would catch them.

"Seven!" Wrex shouted back at Garrus, who quietly swore under his breath as he scanned the wide open terrain for victims to take down. His concerns about the virtual world that surrounded him quickly fading away in the fires of competition, he spun around and dashed up along the edge of the sandy ridge and up onto a higher vantage point. As more of the strange creatures made themselves evident from out behind the metal shacks, Garrus took aim and shot them down as they appeared, the steady rhythm of his sniper rifle firing matching-and perhaps slowly surpassing-the constant thumping of Wrex's massive shotgun.

Wrex would give no chance for Garrus to catch up in this game of his-in the closed off rocks, this was his domain. The strange creatures that clambered towards him-klixen, they were called, native to Tuchunka-quickly flew backwards in a blast from Wrex's shotgun.

The heated battle progressed for nearly half an hour as the two were caught up in their game of destruction. Initially, Garrus held his high ridge which overlooked the burnt trees and metal shacks, but as his fire began to slow, he realized that Wrex still hadn't run out of enemies to fight.

With a nimble jump from his peak, Garrus slipped his way through a narrow crack between a couple of boulders haphazardly thrown about the area as he continued to let loose bullets at the various ravenous creatures that dashed towards him. Without even bothering to look through the scope of his weapon, Garrus let loose another storm of bullets, carefully monitoring his weapon's temperatures and calculating exactly how many bullets he could send down the barrel before a pause was needed.

"My turf!" Wrex shouted at Garrus as he appeared beside him, his high-powered rifle comically difficult to maneuver through some of the rock formations, but more than capable of disposing the klixen and occasional varren that launched themselves at him.

"You've got the homeworld advantage," Garrus shot back, having realized that the creatures they were fighting were none other than Tuchanka natives.

"And the shotgun advantage," Wrex shot back with a wide grin on his face.

"We'll see about that!" Garrus shouted back at him as he skidded to the ground past Wrex's outstretched arm holding him back as he let loose a volley of rounds into the nearest enemies which Wrex had been sighting down on.

"One minute left," an electronic voice announced. Both of them locked stares for a moment before they sprung into action once again, deftly turning their weapons in their hands as the struck down the creatures that rose up from the ground and attacked them.

Garrus was a flurry of motion as he swung his long rifle around the tight rocks and into the faces of the odd creatures that charged at him. As Garrus fired off a shot into one of the slow-moving klixen's faces, a varren dove at him from the right. Smoothly turning on his left heel, Garrus lifted his heavy metal boot and slammed it into the varren's face, sending it crumpling into the wall.

Wrex met his foes with an equal ferocity, slamming the wide barrel of his shotgun into anything that dared come close to him. A trio of varren jumped from the rocks above him to land on top of his head, but as they prepared to sink their claws into his back, Wrex—with more finesse than would be imagined from a four-hundred pound krogan—dodged to the side and swung his heavy shotgun on top of them, slamming them into the ground with a crunch.

Wrex lifted his shotgun to fire one more round, but before the round left his shotgun, the klixen standing before him vanished in a faint blue light.

"Simulation complete," the same mechanical voice said as all of the creatures began to vanish away and the far off mountains began to fade. The rocks and metal shacks all dissipated in front of them as the reddish dirt turned back into the simple black floor, leaving Garrus and Wrex standing alone in the middle of the empty black room with a few faint lights on the ceiling.

"So?" Wrex shouted at the door. "Who won?"

"Wrex, you got seventy-six," Belaris said over the intercom.

Wrex turned to face Garrus with a wide grin on his face. "My best yet," Wrex casually informed Garrus. "So, how bad did the turian do?"

There was silence over the intercom for a few moments.

"Seventy-nine," Belaris announced.

"What?" Wrex shouted with a suspicious glance over at Garrus. "You're telling me he won?"

"Home turf _and_ the shotgun advantage," Garrus said with a wry smile on his face.

"Kick her up again!" Wrex shouted at the intercom. "I'm kicking this turian's ass to Tuchanka and back!"

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I'm not sure how the upload schedule will continue in the coming weeks, but with any luck it'll stay similar to how it is now. I've been fairly busy as of late.

Anyways, as always, make sure to send a review or a message if you've got any concerns.

See you later!

EDIT: COMPLETELY forgot to mention: Huge thanks to Azzorath for this chapter! It was due to his ideas that this chapter didn't end on an incredibly somber note. ;)


	25. The Rogue

**:: Chapter Twenty Five :: **The Rogue **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_We turn away and erase the pain_

_Let it lie in the deepest shades of guilt and blame._

_Cover it under these chords so shallow,_

_Hide it between lines so narrow._

_But the words are too strong to speak,_

_They will only destroy us_

_Like towers we stand,_

_Stand strong, but hurt_

_-Swallow the Sun-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

With the same solemn stoicism that Shepard typically carried about himself, he gently fastened on the chest plate of his armor, snapping the buckles into place around his stomach and shoulders. Quickly observing himself in the mirror to make sure that his new suit of silvery armor was in correct working order, he quickly snapped on his equally new shotgun to the right side of his hip, as usual, along with a pistol on his left side, and his usual knife along his left boot.

Shepard grimaced silently as he tried to flex the fingers on his left hand, sending small sprouts of pain shooting up his wrist as he did so. His hand was healing—he hadn't been able to move it at all a couple days ago, so he was improving—but how much longer it would take was a mystery to even him. Doctor Chakwas had assured him that his hand would return to working order, so long as he didn't put too much strain on the healing tendons and muscles.

With a final shift of his shoulder plates in the mirror, he stepped out through the door, tossing his internal tumults to the side as he wiped any remnant of the pain that he felt away, leaving his face firm and emotionless.

He had a job here—it didn't matter how he sliced it, he was the commander here. Whether or not he deserved the rank was a whole different argument, but he was here now—and as long as he was here, he was going to have to hold himself together.

"Joker, ETA?" Shepard muttered into his omni-tool as he headed towards the deserted tables of the mess hall.

"About two and a half hours, Commander," Joker replied.

Shepard made his way over to the shelves that sat across from the tables and picked out a plastic box, with a simple red lid on top of the white plastic bottom. "RR16" was stamped onto the center of the red lid, indicating the particular meal that he would be feasting on today.

Shepard pulled the lid off the container and tossed it onto the table as he picked up one of the tasteless pieces of dried bread which were crunchy and made him thirstier than he already was. While munching on it thoughtlessly, he picked the lid back up and wandered over to the black metal waste disposal bit sitting, somewhat out of place, beside the shelves.

Shepard could have easily indulged himself in something fancier—as the Commander, he could simply ask and it would be given in the next resources shipment. He still even had a couple higher qualities meals boxed and sealed—assortments of roasted beef, a couple chicken dinners, and there were even some exotic asari dishes that the requisitions officer had claimed were superb—but it didn't seem quite right.

And more importantly, he hadn't ever indulged himself before in the past. Back in N7 training, much of the time he spent was on various space stations, so it was often that he would partake of the simple rations that the active military force did. And while he was the Captain of the SSV Cabazon, for the sake of melding with the crew, he had feasted on simple rations until he had forgotten his distaste towards them completely. And now, he would eat rations again.

He forgot how much he missed the taste of tasteless bread.

Shepard casually tossed the red lid into the waste bin when something that glimmered slightly caught his eye. He quickly threw the remaining lump of bread into his mouth as he leaned forward and gently plucked the shiny, metal rod out of the bin.

When he picked it up, the second half of the small machine fell away as the remaining piece of metal holding it together gave way to gravity, leaving him holding the end with a few wires sticking out of it.

Shepard reached back down and picked up the other piece, fitting them together like a shattered puzzle, even though the wires wouldn't connect. The rod was fairly wide, and smooth on the exterior other than an assortment of scratches and dents, with a single button that nearly blended into the end of the cylinder.

Shepard frowned as he pressed the button and—as expected—nothing happened other than a small spark from the active circuit materializing and quickly flickering out of existence as it fell to the floor.

Shepard turned around, holding the two pieces in his hand as he grabbed his box of rations and stepped back into his room.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Kaidan bit his lip as he clipped the heavy assault rifle that he often carried around on his hip once again, just like so many times other, but this time it wasn't there with the intention to kill.

It felt surreal, setting out so heavily armed, against someone so obviously dangerous, yet knowing that killing them wasn't an option. At least, it wasn't going to be his prime choice of dealing with things—after all, no matter what kinds of things they were doing now, they had once been their friend—and at the very least, they deserved to be heard.

Were they out for money? For blood? It was difficult to tell. But what would they be doing with a politician? There were simpler ways of making fast cash—one could simply raid a small merchant vessel or shuttle if they wanted money quickly. But kidnapping a politician? There was already a one hundred thousand credit per victim bounty being spread through the Alliance—a very tempting offer for the crew of a ship looking for some extra pay.

"We're almost there," Joker said from beside him in his usual pilot's chair. Kaidan sometimes forgot the man was even there—sometimes, he was so loud and obnoxious that it was simply impossible to ignore him, while in other cases, he was so quiet and reserved that he almost blended into the black chair which he reclined in.

"So, what's the mission today?" Joker asked casually as their field of view began to shift back into the normal spectrum of colors as the Normandy rapidly slowed down with the target destination in sight.

"There's a hostage," Kaidan said with a simple shrug.

"They sent us in to take care of hostages?" Joker said with a raised eyebrow. "Seems kind of excessive, doesn't it?"

"The bandits are biotics," Kaidan said with a tilt of his head. "Safer if we go in."

"Might find your long lost brother," Joker said with a grin and a tone that was obviously intended as a joke—but perhaps his ironic statement would prove true.

"Maybe," Kaidan said, putting a small smirk on his face.

"Shepard, we're just about landing," Joker said as he pressed a button on the intercom in front of him.

"I'll be right up," Shepard replied tersely.

They sat quietly in their seats for a few minutes, staring out the window at the reddish colored planet rapidly approaching them.

"ETA to your target is two minutes and twelve seconds," Joker warned.

"Stealth drives are up?" Kaidan asked.

"Been up since we entered the system," Joker said. "But that won't help you once they see you landing."

"Almost there?" Shepard said, suddenly appearing behind them. It was strange how on occasion, his metal boots seemed to clang and bang with disregard for stealth, but other times, he seemed as if he weren't even there. Perhaps it was that infiltrator training—sometimes, it was tough to remember, but Shepard was a damn N7 soldier.

"Just a couple minutes, Commander," Joker said with a serious tone.

"What's the plan, Kaidan?" Shepard asked.

"Joker's dropping us off a few miles from the camp," Kaidan said as he stood up from his seat and faced Shepard, wearing his typical suit of armor with a shotgun strapped to his hip. "Then we head to the camp and try and negotiate with them."

"What kind of negotiations are you planning?" Shepard asked.

"Maybe to trade the hostage for their freedom," Kaidan said with a shrug.

"I doubt the Alliance would spring for a deal like that," Shepard said pointedly. Kaidan nodded a few times.

"I doubt the Alliance will hear about this." He hadn't ever needed to undercut the Alliance before, but these people were still his friends. Their shared experiences earned them at least that much respect.

Shepard quietly nodded a few times. "You're right."

They were silent for a few moments as they looked out the front window.

"So, what are we up against?" Shepard asked with a curious glance over at Kaidan.

"According to the scouts, thirteen—and the leader is named Rahna Binici."

"You know her?" Shepard said, picking up on the familiarity in Kaidan's voice.

"Yeah," Kaidan said with a quiet sigh. "We were… friends. She was always kind, compassionate—even after our captain beat us down."

Shepard nodded somberly.

"They're probably similar to me—we all got the same implants, and the same training. It's been years since I've seen them, though—I don't really know what to expect from them."

"You think they'll recognize you?"

"They have to," Kaidan said with a shrug.

"Landing in a few minutes," Joker said as he glanced back at the two men. "Probably should get that Mako fired up."

Shepard nodded as he turned around and made his way back across the main deck of the Normandy, slipping down the stairs as Kaidan lingered behind, leaning against the wall.

"Good luck with your girl," Joker said from behind him. Kaidan smiled wryly as he pushed himself away from the wall and followed in Shepard's footsteps.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"We're down," Joker announced over the intercom as the bay door on the Normandy slid open, sending a wave of reddish dust flying into the armory of the Normandy. Kaidan pushed down on a pedal and the Mako veered off the Normandy hovering a few feet above the ground, lightly touching down and sinking into the sand as he spun the vehicle around and faced it back towards the Normandy.

"Clear," Kaidan said into the microphone, and in response, the Normandy lifted up and disappeared back into the sky in a matter of moments.

"We're alone now," Kaidan said as he stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles. "Their camp is just three miles south."

Kaidan kicked the vehicle back into motion as it smoothly slid over top the sand, the suspension gently floating the heavy metal frame as the wheel rocked over top the weathered down soil.

"Who else was with you in BAaT?" Shepard asked, glancing over at Kaidan.

"There were seventeen others," Kaidan replied, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. "I haven't seen any of them ever since they shut camp down—I guess we all went our separate ways. I made my way to the Alliance, and apparently, Rahna made her way into piracy."

"There's always another side to the story," Shepard said with a slight frown on his face.

Kaidan was quiet for a moment as he took a deep breath. "Maybe," he finally said.

"Maybe Miguel will be here," Kaidan said with a shrug. "He was always mischievous—he liked breaking into the captain's secret stashes—even though he got beaten for it at least twelve times. Never stopped him, though."

Shepard smiled weakly at Kaidan. "Sounds stubborn."

"Like you," Kaidan said with a quiet chuckle.

Shepard shrugged quietly, staring ahead at the sandy dunes before them.

"Almost there," Kaidan announced after another minute as they neared the peak of another of set of hills.

As they rose over the top of the peak, a large ship came into view sitting calmly down in the bottom of the valley—perhaps even larger than the Normandy. It was familiar in design to the ship that he had ridden on with Frellock only a short while ago—Kowloon class, most likely. The freighter looked like a giant flat box lying on the ground with a tall fin sticking off the back and long protrusion on the front where the pilot would drive.

Surrounding the freighter, however, was a tall metal wall—an assortment of scrap metal. The whole construct seemed patchwork and flimsy, a few shiny aluminum metal sheets mixed with the rusted iron sheets from some other recycled source.

Kaidan slid the Mako to a stop outside of the tall walls, slamming his fist on a button as the side door of the vehicle slid open, hissing as the air mixed with the arid air of the planet.

"What are you doing?" Shepard asked as Kaidan stood up slipped the helmet off his head, jumping out and onto the dusty ground.

"Put your weapons down on the ground!" someone shouted from up above them somewhere on top of the metal walls, and Kaidan readily complied, unhooking his assault rifle and throwing it to the ground in front of him. His pistol quickly followed that, before he slowly lifted his hands into the air and looked up at the two hooded figures that stood far above him.

All the while, Shepard quietly waited inside of the Mako, observing the scene through one of the external cameras.

"Did you bring the written negotiation?" the man shouted again.

"What negotiation?" Kaidan shouted back, and the two figures glanced at each other momentarily.

"Are you Alliance?"

"My name is Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, and I only want to speak with Rahna Binici!" Kaidan shouted back at them, holding his hands in the air unthreateningly.

The two figures glanced at each other again before turning their attention and long rifles towards Kaidan.

"She's not available for an audience," the second person said, this one a woman with a firm voice that indicated she was no stranger to conflict.

"Tell her that Kaidan want to talk to her! She knows who I am!" Kaidan shouted back desperately.

"We're not letting anyone in unless you have the negotiation," the man replied as he accented his point by aiming his rifle at Kaidan.

"If the Alliance attacks you, these walls aren't going to hold them back!" Kaidan shouted back at them.

"Is that a threat?"

"No!" Kaidan shouted back at them. "There's a bounty for you all—one hundred thousand credits for each of you!"

The man glanced over at the woman for a moment, noticeably worried by the way his head quickly flicked from side to side.

"Kill him!" the man shouted to his companion, pulling the trigger on his rifle as the bullet dashed into Kaidan's shoulder, easily deflected by his shields but sending him staggering backwards.

"Stop!" another man's voice shouted, this one deeper.

Kaidan stepped forward again, his hands down at his side as he squinted up at the walkways.

"Grenault?" Kaidan shouted up at the wall.

A steely faced man with dark skin appeared over the edge, staring down at him.

"Let him in," he said quietly, though his voice was loud enough for Kaidan and Shepard to hear down below.

"But he's Alliance," the other man grumbled, but Grenault cut him off with a sharp stare. The man quickly submitted and ran off, disappearing for a few moments before one of the metal panels slid away, revealing a doorway between the twisted and worn pieces of scrap metal.

The same man from on top stepped through the doorway, his hood pulled back to reveal his pale-skinned face and rather mousy looking eyes, staring at Kaidan suspiciously.

"No weapons?" he said while he scanned Kaidan.

"Just a companion," Kaidan said as he turned back towards the Mako.

Shepard shrugged to himself from inside of the vehicle and stepped out, causing the mousy man to jump in panic and pull out his assault rifle, fixing it on Shepard.

"T—that's Shepard!" the man shouted out to his companions. "They sent Shepard after us!"

"We're not here to hurt you," Kaidan reassured the man, keeping his peaceful distance.

"Put the shotgun and knife down," the mousy man said, regaining a little bit of his composure. Shepard glanced at Kaidan for a moment, then shrugged to himself as he threw his shotgun down on the ground beside Kaidan's discarded weapons.

The man ushered him through the doors with a wave of his rifle. Kaidan readily complied while Shepard followed behind, his eyes scanning the premises for escape paths, things they could use to their advantage, as well as the guards that filled the area.

Grenault met them as they walked through, standing in front of Kaidan with a grim expression on his face. The dark-skinned man was an ominous sight, towering almost two feet over Shepard's already considerable height, with a pair of wide shoulders to match. Even though the man wasn't armed, his sleeveless arms were rippled with muscles and his massive fists clenched at his side would have allowed him to take down any ordinary aggressor.

Not to mention the biotics, if this man had them.

"What's happened?" Kaidan asked to the massive man.

"Nothing you need to know," Grenault said with a brutally cold tone as he roughly prodded Kaidan towards the airlock of the massive freighter on the ground.

Grenault pushed Kaidan and Shepard through the sandy encampment with his assault rifle as if they were slaves or thieves, as the few other men turned their attention away from the horizon and towards the two Alliance soldiers being herded into the center.

"Why did you do it, Grenault?" Kaidan said as he looked back at the man, his eyes pleading as he tried to find some piece of the man he remembered.

His heavy hand swung into Kaidan's face and flung him onto the ground before he was even able to react, sending him into a sprawling heap. Kaidan quickly scrabbled back to his feet, standing stiffly to face the tall man.

Grenault leaned his face in close to Kaidan, staring him straight in the eyes.

"You don't get to ask questions," he said cruelly with emphasis from a rough prod with his assault rifle.

Grenault stayed in that position for a few moments—so that Kaidan would get the threat—and then stood back up to his usual height, nodding his head towards the door.

"Get in."

Kaidan and Shepard both stepped into the airlock alongside the mousy looking man from earlier, patiently waiting for the decontamination cycles to finish. Shepard observed the uneasy man while the time passed—in all likelihood, Shepard could have easily disarmed and disabled the man in a matter of moments.

The airlock door slid open revealing a wide open chamber that was scattered with an assortment of boxes and crates not dissimilar to those that Shepard had seen being loaded onto the last freighter he had been on. The mousy man led them through the maze of boxes, following Grenault's lead by shoving his assault rifle into Kaidan's back, but when he went to prod Shepard, a deadly cold stare stopped his hands as he instead chose to wave Shepard ahead.

"In there," the man said as he pointed towards a closed door which was hidden away. He quickly tapped on the terminal beside the door a few times, typing in some unknown passphrase before it slid open.

"Rahna," Kaidan said almost breathlessly as he slowly walked through the door into the next chamber.

The woman sitting at the back of the room—who couldn't have been older than Shepard—turned her head and fixed Kaidan with her stark hazel eyes as her mouth opened slightly in a gasp of surprise.

"…Kaidan?" she finally said, a slight smile on her face as she stood up and walked towards the man. But her smile vanished in an instant once she noticed the Alliance logo proudly displayed on his chest.

Rahna stopped in her tracks as her eyes filled with confusion and she tilted her head to the side slightly, an expression of betrayal evident across her face. She slowly shook her head, brown locks bouncing from side to side as she backed away from him and pointedly put a hand on the pistol at her hip.

"…Alliance?" Rahna finally said after a long moment, still with the same expression of betrayal and her hand on her pistol.

Kaidan bit his lip and sighed inwardly as he opened him palms towards her in surrender. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Rahna shook her head again. "But… how… why?" Rahna said, seemingly unable to put any words together at the unexpected arrival of Kaidan.

"I'm here to warn you," Kaidan began to say, holding his palms open and keeping his gaze fixed on her eyes. "The Alliance has a bounty out for you all—one hundred thousand credits each. They're going to kill you all if you don't get out of here!"

Rahna's face slowly restored from its shocked visage as it was replaced with a firmer, colder frown at Kaidan.

"Why are you working with the Alliance?" Rahna said, as if she hadn't heard a word that he said.

"It doesn't matter right now," Kaidan pleaded as he stepped closer to her. Rahna reflexively put a hand back onto her pistol and pulsed momentarily with biotic energy, putting a stop to Kaidan's advance.

"I thought you were better than that, Kaidan," Rahna said disapprovingly as she slowly circle around him like a wolf. "I thought that you, of all people, would be able to understand."

"What are you talking about, Rahna?" Kaidan said, the desperation on his voice making itself apparent.

"Don't call me that," Rahna whispered through gritted teeth. "I don't know who you are anymore."

"I haven't changed," Kaidan reassured her as he put his opened his palms downwards at his side. "I'm trying to help you."

"Help us do what?" Rahna screamed as she clenched her hands into fists at her side. "Make us confess? To surrender to the Alliance? To just give up?"

"To get away," Kaidan said calmly, though his calm was belied by the concern flashing through his eyes.

"We can't run away," Rahna said as she closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. "It's too late for that."

"Why?" Kaidan demanded, taking a step forward.

"Because we can't just let them step on us!" Rahna shouted at Kaidan, standing firmly in place. "You were at BAaT—or did you forget everything already?"

"I didn't forget anything," Kaidan promised her.

"You saw what Vyrnnus did to us!" Rahna shouted at him. "He starved us, he exhausted us until we couldn't move, and he beat us until we died!"

"Is that what this is about?"

Rahna paused for a moment, the features on her face softening for a moment.

"You didn't even care enough to know," Rahna said as her face lost all emotion. She slowly shook he head as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Conrad, lock them with Burns," Rahna said coldly as the man behind them—the same mousy man from before—pointed his rifle towards Shepard.

"No need to fight," he said reassuringly as he noticed the anger flickering in Shepard's eyes. "Just follow me."

Shepard took a deep breath as he slowly shook his head, stepping towards Conrad as he held his hands openly in front of him.

"Good," Conrad said as he turned his eyes towards Kaidan. "Now, you—"

In a flash of motion, Shepard struck out with his one good hand and grabbed onto the top of the barrel of Conrad's assault rifle, wrenching it down to the ground as Conrad reflexively tried his best to grasp onto the rifle to keep it from flying from his grasp.

That was his first mistake, as Shepard's left elbow flew up and slammed into his nose while he was desperately trying to hang onto his assault rifle. The blow sent him reeling backwards, leaving his assault rifle on the ground—which Shepard promptly picked up and turned onto his exposed chest lying on the ground.

Shepard tightened his fingers on the trigger, but before he could even get a shot off, the floor slipped out from underneath him and he was sent flailing into the far wall of the room from Conrad's biotic blast, pushing the air out of his chest but doing little more than angering him further. Barely taking the time to recover, Shepard sprung forward and jumped on top of Conrad's slender frame, slamming him back to the ground as he cocked back an arm to slam into his face.

"Shepard, wait!" Kaidan shouted from behind him, putting a stop to his fist which would have likely disfigured Conrad's face further than he already had.

"We'll go," Kaidan said with a reassuring glance over at Rahna. Shepard watched him for a few curious moments before he climbed off of Conrad dusted himself off.

Conrad picked himself off the ground as well, shooting Shepard a less-than-appreciative glare but likely terrified of doing any more out of fear of the consequences.

"Get moving," Conrad muttered quietly as he picked his assault rifle back off the ground and pointed towards another door on the opposite side of the room.

Kaidan, who seemed all too ready to comply with their demands, followed Conrad and stepped into a room similar to the one that Rahna had been in, albeit without a desk and with a man tied up on the floor.

"What's going on?" the blindfolded man shouted as he heard the door sliding open, turning to face the door slightly.

"Be quiet," Conrad muttered as he nodded towards the room. Kaidan and Shepard stepped in as he shot one last glare at Shepard before the door slid shut, leaving them trapped inside with the blindfolded man.

Shepard watched Kaidan expectantly as he paced around the room anxiously, occasionally rubbing a hand over his chin.

"So?" Shepard finally asked. "What's the plan?"

Kaidan stopped his pacing and slowly shook his head. "I don't know, Shepard."

"Shepard?" the blindfolded man said from the ground. "Are you Alliance soldiers?"

Kaidan glanced over at the man lying on the floor as if he had just noticed him now. "Albert Burns?"

"That's right," the man said with a wiggle on the ground. "Could you get this blindfold off of me?"

Kaidan quickly bent over and slipped the black cloth off of his head, revealing the man's terrified eyes as he looked around the room.

"What's going on?" Burns said while Kaidan untied the ropes that were binding his wrists together.

"You would know better than us," Kaidan said with a shrug as the man rubbed his wrists.

"These… these _brigands_ hit me over the head with a brick!" Burns said, picking himself off the ground and folding his arms over his chest. "When is the rest of your squad coming? The Alliance will teach this savages a lesson!"

"We are the squad," Shepard informed him in a cold tone that made him pause his tirade with an open-mouthed stare.

"Then… then what are you doing in here?" Burns said, his anger fast fading back into fear as he realized that he wouldn't be getting his desire to vengeance against the "savages" quite as soon as he had hoped.

"The same thing you are," Kaidan muttered with a surrendering edge to his voice that Shepard hadn't heard before.

"We need to get out of here," Shepard said, giving Kaidan a determined nod as he turned to face the door. "I might not be Tali, but I should be able to hack—"

"It's pointless," Kaidan said as he sat down on the floor and rested his head in a hand. "What are we even going to do if we get out?"

"Leave," Shepard said, as if that simple word would be the answer to all his problems.

"Then what?" Kaidan said as he opened his palms in front of him in a shrug. "Everybody here gets shot."

"Then what's the problem?" Burns interjected pointedly, earning himself a cold stare from Kaidan.

"I have nothing against you, but that could change fast," Kaidan muttered under his breath as he stood back up on his feet and began to pace around the room.

Shepard watched the flustered and angry man with some interest—typically, he had been the firm foundation of order and reason that Shepard had come to occasionally lean on and trust in times of need. There had only been one other time that Shepard had ever seen Kaidan acting other than he typically did.

"Then what are we going to do?" Shepard asked Kaidan, not so much of an accusation as an open question.

"Nothing," Kaidan said, with that same unfamiliar tone of surrender as he shook his head.

"So, you're just going to give up?"

"We've already lost!" Kaidan shouted back at him as he wrung his hands in the air. "The Alliance is just going to send more soldiers to kill them all!"

Shepard paused for a moment as he slowly nodded, the pieces of the puzzle forming in his mind. "Are they dead right now?"

Kaidan glared at him as if it were a trick question. After a long moment, he sighed quietly and slowly shook his head.

"Then you need to keep on fighting," Shepard said, trying his best to put on a similar tone that his old captains always seemed to have whenever they were giving motivational speeches. "As long as there's something to fight for, you better damn well get back up and keep on fighting!"

He owed Kaidan at least this much.

Kaidan sighed again as he ran a hand through his black hair. "But what can we do?"

"You said it yourself," Shepard said as he pointed a thumb at the door. "The Alliance is just going to butcher all of them unless we can get them out of here ourselves—because nobody else is going to do what we're going to do."

Kaidan nodded quietly a few times, his back straightening slightly as he took another deep breath.

"Alright," Kaidan finally said, still uncertain but with more confidence than he had moments ago.

"You mean… you're not going to kill them?" Burns said quietly from the corner of the room where he stood, apparently waiting for Shepard's steam to run down before he interrupted him.

"Why did they kidnap you?" Kaidan said, turning to face him with a bit more of the strength that he usually had. "There had to be a reason!"

"I don't know," Burns said as he put his hands in front of him defensively. "I'm just a chairman! I never did anything to them!"

"Chairman of what?" Kaidan said with a slightly threatening tone to his voice.

"Transhuman studies!" Burns said as he waved his hands in front of him.

Kaidan stopped his advance as he stared at the man. In a low voice, he said "You better tell me exactly why they chose _you_ or else I promise you're never leaving this room alive."

Shepard watched Kaidan curiously as he leaned closer to the man, leaving his threat hanging as Burns' eyes nearly popped out in terror.

"T—they're biotics," Burns stammered, pushing into the wall as far as he could to get away from Kaidan. "As chairman, I determine what kind of treatment they receive."

"And what kind of treatment did they receive?" Kaidan said in the same low voice.

"I—I got them medical examinations and treatment for their conditions," Burns said as he diverted his gaze from Kaidan's intent eyes. "T—two of them… died…" Burns added as he winced back, as if he were expecting Kaidan to lash out at him.

"What were their names?" Kaidan asked.

"I… don't know," Burns said, grimacing as he watched Kaidan's already threatening gaze turn into disgust.

Kaidan turned away from him and skulked over to the opposite corner of the room before he turned around and stepped up close to Burns again.

"I want you to tell me _everything,_ or I _will_ find you and make you wish you were still being held hostage," Kaidan said in an eerie calm that even send a slight chill through Shepard's spine.

"E-eight months ago," Burns began to stammer, keeping his eyes fixed on Kaidan the whole time. "I was elected as chairman of the transhuman committee… and I promised that I would give biotics that had been implanted against their will additional budget resources for treatment plans."

Burns sighed as he chewed on his lower lip, evidently terrified of the soldier in front of him. "A girl… a young girl, her name was Rahna… she said that she represented all of the biotics in my district. And that they needed the treatment to be provided."

Burns paused for a moment as he collected himself. "I didn't think that it was important—there were less than twenty of them… so I allocated the budget to working with other tasks."

"What happened?" Kaidan demanded.

"After another month, Rahna came back and she told me that unless they received the treatment they needed, they were going to make complaints to my superiors and petition for changes… but I knew that they wouldn't have enough support—but just to make them be quiet, I… I sent them to a hospital."

Burns shook his head slowly. "I didn't know what kind of problems they had—I thought that they just needed medication or something. I never knew that they needed surgery to fix their problems."

"What happened?" Kaidan said again, prodding him to continue speaking.

"Two of… the biotics… died," Burn said again, hesitating for a moment as he carefully watched Kaidan. "They didn't have the proper equipment, and they blew out one of their biotic amps."

"What did they look like?"

"The first was tall, brown eyes, blonde hair, pale skin—"

"Dmitri Logart," Kaidan said without diverting his gaze.

"And the other, he was shorter, with black hair and eyes, and—"

"Harrison Dominic," Kaidan said again with a sorrowful peal coming into his voice.

Burns nodded somberly. "That's right," he quietly said.

"What did you do then?" Kaidan said, the threatening tone in his voice gone as his unfocused gaze looked past Burns.

"They kept trying to push me for better treatment, but I didn't give it to them," Burns said as he slowly shook his head. "I told them that I already gave them the best that I could—but Rahna wouldn't believe me. She wouldn't stop buzzing my door."

Burns paused again as he shook his head remorsefully.

"Then, a few months later… Rahna stopped coming to my door. I thought that she had given up, but then, in the news, I saw that… Kara Fronichi died."

Kaidan's face grew grave as he heard the name. "She was…"

"Like a sister to Rahna," Burns said as he lowered his head in shame. "The reporters said that it was heart failure, but her biotic amp had malfunctioned and shocked her. I… I went to the funeral after everyone else had left."

"But why didn't you do anything?" Kaidan said, raising his voice as he looked at the man with confusion in his face. "You knew what was wrong but you didn't do anything?"

"I didn't know what to do!" Burns said as he shook his head. "All of the other chairmen were pressuring me to allocate the budget to dealing with funding our investments in interspecies enterprises!"

"You mean… you denied treatment… _for money?_" Kaidan said, the threatening tone coming back into his voice.

"I didn't want to!" Burns shouted back at him as he squeezed himself into the wall. "I had no choice! They would have kicked me out of the chair if I didn't!"

"What the hell is the point of electing politicians if they don't do what the people want?" Kaidan shouted as he pushed his face in close to his.

"I didn't know they were so desperate!" Burns shouted out again. "I heard Rahna—I know that she's the one behind this. I never wanted anything to turn this way!"

"Neither did she!" Kaidan shouted at him. "You killed the person who meant the entire universe to her!"

Kaidan clenched a fist as his muscles tightened, but he took a deep breath and backed away from the politician sitting on the floor.

"I need to talk to Rahna," Kaidan said determinedly as he began to pace around the room again, the strange, threatening visage he had been holding rapidly fading away.

"The door's open," Shepard said nonchalantly as he tapped on his omni-tool a few times. With a small smirk, it slid open noiselessly behind him.

"What? How?" Kaidan said, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I didn't take N7 training for nothing," Shepard said with a shrug. He stepped through the door and out into the messy room filled with crates, Kaidan and Burns following closely behind.

"Alliance! Alliance touching down!" a familiar voice shouted out from the other side of the crates, the somewhat squeaky voice that belonged to Conrad.

The lanky man dashed around the crates and turned towards Rahna's office, but not before he caught the sight of the three men escaping from their prison out of the corner of his eye. He spun back around, whipping his assault rifle into ready position as he prepared to fire it as Shepard.

"Stop!" Shepard shouted in a loud voice, putting a halt to his rapid motions. "We both know exactly what happened last time," Shepard said with the undertones of a threat very prevalent.

"We need to talk to Rahna," Kaidan pleaded as he walked forward to step beside Shepard. "The Alliance isn't going to negotiate with you—they're only going to attack!"

Conrad stared at them for a few moments, his eyes wide, before he finally spoke.

"Alliance dropship," he said quietly. "Seventy soldiers just touched down."

* * *

Thanks for reading! I don't believe I have too much to say this uploading period.

Special thanks, as always, to everybody that takes time out of their probably-busy-schedules to leave a review-it always means a lot to me! Also, Azzorath is a great person-make sure to send him messages or something and if he's written anything in the future, it's worth checking out. :)

Until next time! Bye!


	26. Carry On

**:: Chapter Twenty Six :: **Carry On **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_This world insists to be the same_

_Based on our mistakes._

_The flowers fade along the road._

_Don't blindfold your eyes,_

_So loneliness becomes the law of a senseless life._

_Now we have to face another day,_

_You won't be alone._

_This life is forcing us to stay,_

_But for how long?_

_Cold is the wind _

_And thunder struck on a stormy night_

_But can't you see I'm by your side,_

_We are marching on._

_-Angra-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Kaidan and Shepard stormed into Rahna's small office, led by Conrad, whose eyes were wide with terror and fear as he opened the door.

"Why did you bring them back!" Rahna screamed at him as the door slid open, and Conrad, his eyes bulging, couldn't push any words past his throat.

"I told you to lock them up!"

"The Alliance is attacking!" Kaidan interrupted, pointing an arm out towards the front entrance. "They're going to kill you all unless you get out of here right now!"

Rahna's infuriated expression turned to sudden confusion as she looked to Conrad for support.

"Seventy soldiers," Conrad said as he bit his lower lip.

"We're—we're biotics," Rahna stammered, the terror slowly becoming evident in her eyes as she spoke as well. "We can fight back!"

"Not against seventy trained soldiers," Shepard said coldly.

"Lock them back up!" Rahna shouted at Conrad, who only had to glance at Shepard's intimidating figure to realize that it wasn't likely a wise decision.

"Don't disobey me! I'm the one who took care of you when you were sick! I'm the one who fought for us!" Rahna screamed, the grating sound of betrayal evident in her voice.

"Be quiet!" Shepard shouted back, setting her aback as she slowly took a breath, seeming to shrink under Shepard's stare.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Shepard shouted, taking a step forward and ignoring the pulse of biotic energy around her. "Kaidan risked his god damned life to save you, and all you do is scream and threaten to lock us up?"

"Kara was like a sister to all of us," Kaidan said more calmly, stepping beside Shepard. "Don't think that just because I'm in the Alliance that I don't care about her—about you."

Rahna clenched her fists down at her side, still pulsing with energy. "She… she was dying! And nobody even did anything!"

A few tears rolled down Rahna's cheeks, the stony visage which she had been wearing melting away.

"But they will now," Kaidan said as he turned and faced Burns, who had been standing around the edge of the door, peeking in around the cracks.

Seeing the spotlight faced onto him, he stepped around the corner and slowly walked towards Rahna, his gaze cast downwards and a mournful frown upon his face.

"You never did anything," Rahna said accusingly as the fire returned to her eyes. "You told me that you were going to help… but… but you killed them!"

Burns slowly nodded his head. "I've done many things wrong… and there are mistakes that I can't reverse. But that doesn't mean I can't change."

Rahna slowly shook her head. "That's a lie—you always lie."

"As soon as I get back, I'm going to tell the rest of the committee that they can either get on board with my plans or leave," Burns said as he looked into Rahna's eyes sincerely. "I've made a terrible mistake… but I can try to help."

"Rahna…"

Grenault fell through the open door and landed heavily on the floor, the massive man barely able to hold his weight up as he crawled forward.

"Grenault!"

Rahna rushed forward and crouched down, putting her arms on the big man's shoulders as she turned him over with surprising ease, revealing the grotesque wounds splayed across his chest and stomach, his lifeblood dripping out onto the floor where he lied.

"They… won't talk," Grenault said through a bloody cough. "Waiting… five minutes. Then… attack."

"You need healing!" Rahna shouted as she looked desperately at Kaidan and Conrad for support. "He's going to die!"

"It's too late," Grenault whispered.

"No, no, no!" Rahna jumped to her feet, her eyes widening slightly as she saw the packet of medi-gel that Kaidan had in his extended hand. With a slight glance of suspicion, she took the packet and split it open over top of his chest, the liquid quickly hardening up over top his torn flesh.

"Give up," Grenault said with a choked sob. "We've lost."

"No…" Rahna said as another series of tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping onto Grenault's ruined chest.

"Don't die for this," Grenault said, his final plea as his eyes began to gloss over, the glimmering of life disappearing as he took his last breath.

Rahna stood up calmly, biting her lower lip as she looked at the dead man at her feet. Unexpected, she jumped to the side and wrapped her arms around Kaidan, her tears turning into weeping sobs.

She was really just a girl—a girl who had gotten mixed into things that she should have never become a part of. A girl whose innocence had been forever shattered by the things that she had suffered, by the things she had been forced into doing.

But she was still just a little girl.

"They're going to kill us all," Rahna lamented as she cried into Kaidan's shoulder. "We're all going to finally die here."

"No, we're not," Kaidan said, his voice brimming with the confidence that Shepard remembered.

Kaidan gently pushed Rahna back to her feet as she steadied herself, running a hand across her cheeks to wipe away the tears.

"We're going to fix this."

With a nod to Shepard, he stepped out the door and into the open freighter bay.

"Conrad, get us some weapons," Kaidan said without diverting his gaze from the door at the front of the ship. Without responding, Conrad quickly dashed past him and scrambled through a crate and handed him an assault and Shepard a shotgun.

Kaidan nodded approvingly as he quickly scanned the weapon and continued walking towards the door.

"But… how can you fight them?" Conrad squeaked from behind him.

"We won't," Kaidan said simply.

They made their way back outside, the terrified group of biotics on watch huddled in a small circle near one of the walls as they waited for their impending doom. Most of them were already riddled with wounds, bandages covering their arms and legs.

"Conrad!" one of them shouted—the same woman from earlier. "What's going on?"

"We're taking care of this," Kaidan said without waver as he strode past her.

"What happened to Grenault? He said he was going to come back out after he talked to Rahna!"

"Grenault is dead," Conrad mourned.

"What?" The woman said, the expression in her eyes telling Shepard that such an event was unprecedented. "He… he said that he was fine… that he would be alright…" She shook her head slowly as the news sunk in.

Shepard stepped past her and rejoined with Kaidan, who was standing at the front entrance stiffly. As Shepard went to stand beside him, he took a deep breath, glancing over at him for a moment.

"Think they'll listen?" Kaidan said with a worried grimace.

"Think they won't?" Shepard said with his best attempt at a wry smile as he hefted the rifle in his hands. Kaidan gave him a stressed smile in return.

"Then let's do this."

Shepard slid the metal plate which protected the encampment to the side while they stepped through, standing confidently with their rifles in rest position across their chests. At the top of the dunes which rose up above the encampment, a squad of at least ten soldiers stood abreast, each of them a replica of each other, wearing their Alliance uniforms and their standard distribution rifles across their chests.

Shepard noticed painfully late that his new suit of armor lacked any logos or identification—hopefully they would notice Kaidan's before they decided to shoot them down.

"Stop!" one of the soldiers shouted, taking a step forward from the ranks as he lifted his rifle into firing position. As if attached, the other soldiers lifted their rifles in perfect coordination as they pointed at the incoming soldiers.

"Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Alliance military, crew of the SSV Normandy!" Kaidan shouted out at the man as he stopped in place.

"Commander Johnathan Shepard, Captain of the SSV Normandy," Shepard said after him, his fingers twitching at the trigger of his rifle.

"You are to remain at distance until properly identified!" the same soldier shouted out. "Until then, preparation will proceed—"

"Who the hell are you talking to?" A crass and cruel voice rang out from behind him. "No negotiations with the savages!"

A tall and broad man pushed himself through the neat line of soldiers, holding a shotgun by the barrel in one hand as he confidently strode down the hill towards Shepard and Kaidan.

"You've got thirty damned seconds until I blow a hole through you all," the man shouted at as he made his way down the hill. "I will make your lives an endless torrent of misery, and suffering, and pain, and—" his speech stumbled for a moment as he caught a closer look at the men standing in front of him.

"—And… and terror, and… horror…"

A wicked smile formed on Shepard's face as his intuition proved itself to be true. Indeed, it had been a long time since he had last heard that voice—a lifetime ago, or perhaps two—but it was unmistakable now.

"Commander Fannel," Shepard said in a dark tone that similarly confirmed the man's suspicions as well.

"That's… that's _Captain_ Fannel, to you!" the man said, trying to regain some of his lost bravado. "And so, _Major_ Shepard—wait, no, you got demoted to _Officer,_ if I recall correctly!"

Shepard merely smiled caustically as he watched the man approach them.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" he muttered as he came within range of them. "I'm going to wipe these good-for-nothing jerk-arounds off the map—and I'm not letting you take the bounty."

"Leave here now," Kaidan said threateningly. "The situation has been dealt with and further trespass puts your position in danger."

"And why would I listen to you, kid?" Fannel said as he leaned in close enough to them that they could read the writing tattooed onto his neck. "I whip kids like you into shape every god damned morning."

"Leave," Kaidan said, this time enunciating his threat as he subtly tilted his rifle towards the man. "Now."

Fannel slowly leaned backwards, a small grin on his face as he stared into Kaidan's eyes.

"Very well," Fannel said with a small shrug. "Then I guess I'll just leave here without any conflict whatsoever."

The not-quite-so-unexpected assault came in the form of a boot flying into Kaidan's chest and throwing him down onto the ground down the hill a way, as Fannel spat onto the sand and rolled his shoulders.

"Now then, _Officer,_" he said, turning his attention to Shepard. "Get your ass out of the way too, before I throw you both on the ground and shoot you."

"I find it interesting that you're standing here," Shepard said simply as he continued to smile unnervingly at the man.

"And I find it to be damned annoying that you're standing here," Fannel said as he positioned himself in front of Shepard.

"The strangest part is that of all things, you're a _captain_ now," Shepard said with a slow shake of his head.

"Get ready to move out, men!" Fannel shouted back at his soldiers.

"Especially after you ran on Elysium."

Fannel froze as he turned his head and fixed Shepard with a disapproving glare.

"Bullshit," he muttered as he approached Shepard threateningly.

"I remember well," Shepard said with a smile, holding his ground despite the man's advances. "The man who abandoned seven-thousand to die," Shepard said cruelly.

"You're a lying sack of crap," Fannel muttered as he sent his foot flying towards Shepard's chest, though he had easily seen the attack coming and deftly dodged to the side, even adding a small nudge for effect as he went tumbling to the ground. In an instant, all of his men's weapons were trained on Shepard, but he didn't care.

"I seem to recall a certain _Commander_ disappearing from battle and lifting off in a ship with twenty soldiers still alive and uninjured under his command," Shepard said menacingly as he slowly approached Fannel lying on the ground.

"That's a lie!" Fannel shouted, scrabbling to his feet. "I was there the whole time! See this scar?" Fannel said, pointing to a long white gash across his left cheek. "Got that from a batarian who slashed at me!"

"You got that when you tripped over a dead batarian while you were busy running," Shepard said with a wicked smile.

"B—bullshit!"

"You've haven't changed at all," Shepard said ominously as he walked to stand over top of the man, suddenly seeming so much taller. "Always hiding behind your soldiers, behind bluster and bravado—but you've never really had it in you."

"I don't have time for this crap!" Fannel said as he began to walk away from Shepard.

In one smooth movement, Shepard spun the shotgun in his hands and sent a round slamming into the ground beside the man's feet, throwing sand up into the air with a loud bang. In the same blurring motion, his shotgun ended up clipped harmlessly at his side.

Shepard smiled slightly at the way that everybody had jumped as soon as he had carried out the bold move. In the corner of his eye, he could see Kaidan readying his rifle.

"That's what you've always been—a bully and a cheat," Shepard said as he stepped dangerously close to Fannel, leaning his face close to his. "But the tables have turned."

Shepard paused for a moment. "Don't think you're safe just because you've got a few soldiers watching you. I killed three hundred batarians on Elysium. I've slit more throats than you've ever seen. And I singlehandedly butchered a three-hundred year old mercenary guild. So don't even _think_ for one moment that you stand a chance."

Fannel gulped silently as his eyes flickered from side to side, trying to avoid the intent stare that Shepard was pounding through his head.

"Now… get the hell out of here."

Fannel quickly backed away, clearing his throat as he walked back up the hill, slowly nodding his head as if they had come to some kind of agreement.

"Get a move on!" Fannel shouted, the brusque edge to his voice very evidently supressed as he walked up the hill. "Get back to the ship!"

The soldiers glanced at each other momentarily before they broke formation and turned around, marching back where they had come from. Fannel gave him another long look as he reached the crest of the hill.

"And that's _Commander_ Shepard," Shepard muttered under his breath.

"Shepard, I don't know how the hell you did it," Kaidan said, stepping beside him with a wide grin on his face as he clasped a hand onto his shoulder. "But I'm sure as hell glad that you came along with me."

Shepard smiled wryly as he turned to face the front entrance of the encampment, where the biotics had gathered together and had been watching the confrontation from the relative safety of their walls.

"They're leaving?" one of the biotics shouted from the group. "They're not going to attack?"

"They're leaving!" Kaidan shouted back at them as he threw a fist into the air victoriously.

Shepard smiled as he watched the biotics faces each turn from terror to ecstasy as they realized that their lives had not yet come to a close. They gave each other warm-hearted slaps on the back and the occasional embrace as they cheered.

The only ones who stood to the side, apart from the celebrations, were Rahna, Conrad, and the same woman from earlier.

"You're safe now," Kaidan said, stepping over to Rahna with a warm smile on his face.

Rahna did her best to smile back at him, but unable to break the sadness in her eyes. "You've always protected me."

"And I always will," Kaidan reassured her.

"But then… I didn't believe in you," Rahna said, slowly shaking her head mournfully.

"It's going to be alright," Kaidan said softly as he gently embraced her once again.

Shepard turned his attention away from them as he caught sight of the chairman standing at the edge of the crowd.

"Burns," Shepard said, walking up to him.

The chairman turned to look at Shepard, giving him a strained smile. "My heart wouldn't stop pounding—I watched the whole thing from the catwalks," Burns said as he pointed up to the walkways along the walls.

"What are you going to do now?" Shepard asked the man.

"Help," Burns said without hesitation. "I… I don't know if you can believe me after what I've done… but I'm not going to let it happen again. I don't care what anybody else tells me—I'm never going to make that kind of mistake again."

Shepard nodded a few times. "Take good care of them—they're good people," Shepard said as he turned around and headed towards the Mako, still parked outside of the encampment.

Shepard walked over to where his weapons were still lying on the ground, strapping his familiar knife to his hip as he clipped his shotgun and pistol back onto his hip, enjoying the feel of their familiar weight. With a shrug, he tossed the other shotgun into the back of the Mako—they wouldn't miss it, anyways.

Shepard sat down on the edge of the opening of the Mako, watching the crowd outside with a slight smile on his face.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Let's go, Shepard," Kaidan said as he put a hand on his shoulder and sat down beside him on the edge of the Mako. "Thanks—for everything. It means a lot to me."

"Anything for crew, Kaidan," Shepard replied with an equally warm smile.

"Wait!" Rahna shouted as she ran towards the Mako. "Are you leaving already?"

"We need to get going," Kaidan said, standing back up and walking towards her. "We've got a really important mission to take care of," Kaidan said with a small smile.

"You mean… you can't come with us?"

Kaidan slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry—but there are things that I need to take care of."

Rahna frowned, as she watched Kaidan, but after a few moments she nodded. "I understand," she said quietly. "Take care of them well."

"I will," Kaidan said with a smile.

Rahna leaned in close and pecked Kaidan on the cheek with a kiss and embraced him once last time before she backed away and waved at him with a weak smile on her face.

Kaidan waved at Rahna as well before he slipped back into the Normandy, closing the door behind him as he sat down in his seat, leaning back with a sigh.

"You can go with them if you want," Shepard said, his offer genuine.

Kaidan glanced over at him with a curious look on his face. "I couldn't do that."

"I thought you wanted to?" Shepard said, slightly confused.

"More than I thought I would," Kaidan said with a sigh. "But I know my place—and it's not with them. It's up with you, fighting Saren and whatever else the galaxy throws at us. And even with the offer of being able to stay with Rahna… I'd rather fight beside you than anywhere else."

Shepard nodded a few times as he leaned back comfortably in his seat as well. "They're all prepared to leave?"

"Yup," Kaidan said, starting up the Mako. "They're going to lift off in a few minutes—heading back to Earth."

"Aren't they still criminals?"

"They won't be once we clear their records," Kaidan said with a smirk on his face as he glanced at Shepard.

"They won't notice?" Shepard asked, wondering how he was planning on pulling it off.

"They won't care," Kaidan said with a shrug. "In normal circumstances, they would have sent a special ops team or a negotiation team to make a deal with them to get the hostage back—but since all of their Alliance squads are wrapped up, they just set out a bounty to get them off the news. Either way, we dealt with the situation, and I don't think anyone will complain after this."

Shepard smiled slightly, satisfied with the way things had turned out.

"Joker, we're ready to go home."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"What the hell is the meaning of this… this damned thing?" Bradley said as he threw the small grey metal ball onto the table.

The man behind the mahogany desk leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together on top of his lap as he regarded Bradley fuming on the other side of the room.

"I believe we both know precisely what this is," the man said with a cool collectedness and a calm stare that Bradley couldn't stand looking into.

Bradley shook his head, and began pacing back and forth in his room, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Why? What the hell did I do?" Bradley said as he threw his hands into the air. "T—the other—they were all soldiers, commanders, officers. I'm just an engineer! There has to be some kind of mistake!"

"There is no mistake," the man said again as he leaned forward, gingerly picking up the small metal sphere off his desk and holding it up in the air. He grasped onto a lighter with his other hand, flicking it on as he placed the flame underneath the grey orb. As the orb began to heat up, a small script of lettering became visible on the side.

Bradley Kerris.

"Damnit, damnit," Bradley said, putting his hands on his head as he continued to hastily pace around the room. "What did I do?"

"We don't know," the man said, leaning back and gently placing the orb onto his desk. "But we do know this—he's never failed yet."

"Shit, that's bloody wonderful," Bradley said, biting a lip and leaning heavily on the wooden desk.

"But that doesn't mean he won't ever fail," the man said with a knowing grin.

Bradley stopped and stared into the man's eyes, a frown on his face as he tried to guess what he was working at.

"How do you think you're going to stop him? You saw the damn reports—he killed eleven of our soldiers—hell, he even blazed through the god damned Behemoths!"

"One man has two hands," he stated calmly. "One man has two legs. One man has two eyes. But one man only has one life. He will die."

Bradley slowly picked up the small grey sphere, holding it tightly between two fingers. "You're sure of it?"

"We know exactly who he's going to strike at," the man said with a small, unconcerned laugh.

"Don't you tell me that," Bradley said as his brow furrowed angrily and his lips curved into a frown. "He'll bloody murder me!"

"You will be unharmed," the man reassured with a slight smile on his face.

"Bullshit!" Bradley shouted, throwing the sphere onto the wooden desk as the words left his mouth.

The sphere landed on the desk, the metal casing unexpectedly splitting open as blood spilled out from the ruined shell. Bradley froze as he watched the dark red blood spreading out from the orb in the middle of the table, the pool making its way to the edge of the table.

As the blood began to drip off the table and onto the man's clean, black pants, he merely smiled wickedly.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali leaned back in the chair that Adams had brought up for her—a rare luxury in the engineering bay. Of course, she had told him that she was fine with standing up—or that she could use a box or something—but there was no denying the simple satisfaction of lounging back in a comfortable chair.

Tali closed her eyes as she reached down beside her chair with her right hand, picking up the cylindrical contained that was filled with a sweet nectar of some sort that Adams had found lying along with the other food supplies. It wasn't too difficult to pick out a quarian-safe drink from the others—for whatever reason, manufactures seemed to fawn over the cylindrical tubes, and usually there was a red stamp somewhere on the label indicating that it would be wasteful for a turian to drink the stuff.

Of course, it also wouldn't get her drunk. The residual headache which had been following her for the past couple of days was a reminder of her overindulgence—one that she likely would keep in mind for the future. It was probably also some kind of bacteria she had inadvertently ingested—even with all of the special systems in place to prevent it, it was very possible that something could have gotten through the decontaminators.

"Need anything?" Adams said, Tali barely noticing the silent footsteps which came from the man's generally nimble figure and the leather boots which he wore.

"I'm fine," Tali said, sitting up a little bit straighter in her chair.

"Relax," Adams said with a smirk as he slid a similar chair across the ground, setting it beside Tali as he sat down with his own maroon colored drink. "You've already put every engineer I've met to shame—you can take a break, you know."

Tali smiled slightly under her mask at the comment. "It's easier to keep busy," Tali said with a shrug as she took another sip of her drink.

"I still don't know how you managed to install the TX3 redirect transformers so quickly," Adams said as he lounged backwards in his chair. "It would have taken me hours."

"It's not so bad once you get into the rhythm," Tali said with a selfless shrug. "And besides, I need someone to tell me where to put everything."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were running this ship one day," Adams said with a chuckle.

Tali turned her head to face Adams. "Never," Tali said, without any hint of sarcasm. "You know the Normandy inside and out—I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here."

Adams merely shrugged as he tilted his glass and took another gulp of his drink.

"Oh, by the way, do you know the status of the KRK-294 chips?" Adams asked nonchalantly.

"They're running fine," Tali said. "Last time I checked, they were running at ninety-eight-point-seven percent capabilities with wiggle room for high power load or stress. The temperatures were all moderate—when the power surged, they peaked up a little bit higher but it's nothing to be worried about because the system core can't push out enough—"

"See?" Adams said, interrupting Tali's very detailed explanation.

Tali paused, her mouth open wide as she trailed off, looking at Adams accusingly.

"No," Tali finally said with a warm-hearted shake of her head. "I couldn't ever take care of the Normandy like you do."

"We'll see," Adams said with a chuckle as he took another sip from his glass.

"Besides," Tali said, trying to find something she didn't know. "I don't know how to properly install the hydroconverters and targeting processors."

Adams smiled as he readjusted himself in his chair. "Well, I guess there is that," he said.

Tali smiled for a moment, feeling like she had proven herself inept enough for Adam's sake.

"So that's what we're replacing tomorrow," Adams said with a grin as he looked over at Tali. "Then I can retire."

"No way," Tali said with a chuckle. "The Normandy needs and engineer who isn't getting shot at all the time."

"I have to admit, I'm not that great of a shot," Adams conceded as he shrugged. "I guess I'll stick around for another few years…"

Tali smiled as she took another sip of her sweet drink, sighing contentedly as she watched the rhythmic pulsing of the mass effect core in front of them, its melody forever ingrained into her head.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"How much longer, Joker?" Shepard asked as he leaned on the co-pilot's seat, looking out the window at the blue shifted assortment of lights the flew by them at incredible speed as they hurtled through space.

"Probably five minutes," Joker said with a shrug. "Computer tells me five and nine seconds."

Shepard nodded a few times.

"So, what's the plan today, Commander?" Joker asked nonchalantly as he turned to face the man. "Visiting a museum? Shopping? Maybe wrestling a bear?"

Shepard smiled slightly—Joker was rather strange. At times, crass and morose, and at others, incredibly vocal. "I'll have to see," Shepard said."

Shepard stuck a hand into the pocket of the simple uniform that he was wearing—while he would usually opt to wear his armor over unprotecting fabric, the Citadel had become a familiar enough place that Shepard wasn't worried about any offenders who would pose a threat to him. He had his shields on him at all times, and if someone tried to shove a shank in his back—well, that was always a possibility, but Shepard felt fairly confident in his own awareness and perception that he would notice if something was amiss. In his years of working in the military, making a habit out of ending the lives of those who meant him harm, he had become accustomed to some unknown spark or pressure in the air that seemed to signal danger. Sixth sense? Perhaps. But it had worked thus far.

Unthinkingly, he pulled a metal rod out of his pocket, the one that he had found split and broken in the trash bin a day ago. Shepard ran a hand across the seam, barely visible and with hardly a crack as he had sealed the thing together well using a metal sealant from his small kit. The inside had been rattled up pretty badly—a few disconnected wires and a broken case weren't the full extent of the problems. There had been a small electric chip inside of the device which had been broken into a couple of pieces that would be tough to fix as the wiring was so miniscule that without the appropriate machinery, his large and clumsy fingers simply weren't capable of that level of precision.

"Need your gun?" Joker asked casually as he glanced over at Shepard, lost in thought.

"Good idea," Shepard said, looking down at his waist and leg to notice that he wasn't carrying any of the weapons he had usually become accustomed to carrying about his person. Complacency? Perhaps. But he was safe enough on the Normandy.

Shepard spun around and headed back down the main deck of the Normandy. He'd grab a pistol and his knife—two simple and versatile weapons that would afford him the defense that he needed.

As he jogged down the stairs, he ran past the elevator and into his chambers, quickly strapping his knife and pistol onto his person before turning around and heading back towards the stairs.

He stopped as he walked past the elevator, hesitating a moment before he took the first step back upstairs. After a few seconds, he spun back around and slipped into the elevator, pressing the button for the next floor.

The armory was as usual—the dimly lit room with the Mako's large bulk taking up one corner of the room and a variety of lockers taking up the other. Beside the Mako, a metal table that hadn't been there before had been erected, along with one bright light shining onto a long rifle which sat in pieces on the table. Oddly enough, Wrex was standing behind it, lifting up the pieces and examining them for a few moments before he placed them back down on the table.

"New gun?" Shepard asked Wrex from across the room. From what he recalled, the krogan was more of a shotgun kind of person.

"Someone's new gun," Wrex said mischievously as he replaced the piece and picked up another. Shepard waited a few moments for any further elaboration, but when none was forthcoming, he turned to where he had really been planning on going.

The requisitions officer—he needed a list of supplies.

Shepard sighed as he knew what he wanted and what he feared. In engineering, Tali would be slaving away as usual, maybe down in the maze of components and electronics that even Shepard had never covered through engineering. In that domain, she reigned supreme—a land where everything was microscopic, where trillions of things happened in microseconds at a time.

"Rick," Shepard said as he turned around and walked towards the requisitions officer who, as usual, had some variety of forms splayed out on the small desk he had claimed.

"Sir," the man said as he turned around and saluted Shepard. "Need something?"

"Got a list of what we need to pick up?" Shepard asked him.

"I can take care of it, sir," Rick assured him with a smile. "It's no big deal—I'm probably going to be heading that direction, anyways."

"Take a day off," Shepard said. "I'll pick up whatever we need today."

Rick looked at him for a few curious seconds before he smiled slightly. "Alright, sir."

He opened up a drawer and shuffled through a couple of datapads before found one that he handed over to Shepard.

"Everything's on there," Rick said. "Thanks again, sir."

"Don't mention it," Shepard muttered as he turned around and slipped the datapad into a pocket in his uniform.

He walked over to the elevator, taking a deep breath as he hovered a hand over the button to the floor above.

Why would Tali want to even talk to him? She hadn't even looked at him since… what had happened.

Shepard took another deep breath as he shook his head. Trying to loosen up the muscles in his face and to stand a little bit taller, he stepped out of the elevator and headed down the ramp towards engineering.

Of all places, the engineering bay never seemed to change. Occasionally, there would be a couple of crates neatly stacked to the side of the room or maybe a few miscellaneous boxes, but usually the whole of the area was empty other than the people who occupied it. But today, two lawn chairs were placed in the center of the room, a pair of empty glasses beside the green-colored chairs, and a pair of satisfied engineers lounging back.

"How's it going?" Shepard asked casually. Tali nearly jumped out of her chair as she rushed to her feet, standing stiffly as she glanced at Shepard.

"We're… finished everything," Tali said guiltily, as if she had been caught in some vile act.

"Just taking a break, Commander," Adams reassured him with a smile from his chair. Without any regard for the fact that his superior officer was watching him, he leaned back and folded his hands behind his head.

"That's fine," Shepard said. He had no doubts that the two had taken care of everything that needed to be done. "I just came to—" Shepard paused for a moment as the fear rushed back into the forefront of his mind.

"To ask Tali something," Shepard muttered weakly, trying to hold his casual smile.

"…What is it?" Tali asked, evidently hesitating as her eyes scanned up and down Shepard's frame.

"I needed to pick up some supplies," Shepard explained weakly, suddenly seeing faults in his plan to "relax". "I was wondering… if… you weren't busy here… did you want to help?"

Shepard cleared his throat quietly as he finished the sentence.

_Damnit,_ Shepard lamented as he fully expected Tali to come up with some piece of equipment that needed adjusting or fixing.

"Ok," Tali finally said, Shepard's eyes widening slightly in shock at the positive response.

"Ok," Shepard said dumbly, a small smile on his face. "I'll—I'll be upstairs whenever you're ready," Shepard said as he turned around and made his way over to the ramp, quickly and quietly slipping away to hide the growing grin on his face.

Shepard ignored the curious look that Wrex was fixing him from his corner of the armory and slipped back into the elevator, heartily pressing the button to lift him up to the next floor.

Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

* * *

Hey, everybody! Welcome back (though it's a bit late for that), and thanks for reading!

So, today, I'm competing with Borderlands 2-which just launched for those of you that don't know-so hopefully things don't fall down the gutter too badly. And hopefully I'll actually write stuff instead of just derping around in video games (so maybe instead I can derp around in video game _worlds_. _Aah. Distinction.__)_

I'm not sure if there's a purpose to this short little update... I feel a need to say something personal at least once every so often. ;)

Special thanks to-guess who?-AZZORATH!

Also, special thanks to ProjektNemesis7, who has provided some poetry which fits very nicely with the content that I've been running (it's coming soon, I promise).

And even more special thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. It really _does_ mean a lot to me-social acceptance through deviance is my preferred way of making myself feel better.

And even if you've got a complaint-let me hear it! Honestly, at first, negative reviews made me sad (and they still do), but I promise I won't shoot the messenger in the foot. I've learned to deal with criticism-by fixing it!

Also, I've updated the cover art from the reaper and pixely-text thing to what it currently is. However, in the very small size which it is presented it, it's hard to make out any details other than a smudgy looking orangish-background and some black silhouette. So, let me know which you prefer (if it matters at all to you)-or I might try making a less smudgy version. Really, it looks better full size (or that's what I tell myself)!

Seven in the morning and I'm ranting again. If only I could be this productive while writing. Alas!

Either way, I'll be off. See you guys all in another three days!


	27. Broken Pentagram

**:: Chapter Twenty Seven :: **Broken Pentagram **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_It is time to let the water of the past flow away_

_To distant shores._

_Memories I now place on the flowing waters,_

_And look not behind me as it recedes._

_Memories full of sorrow, anger, guilt and agony._

_Those are the rivers of my memory,_

_Flowing to distance shores._

_For I reclaim my course and my heart._

_-R.A. Salvatore (and ProjektNemesis7)-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Shepard glanced over at Tali, calmly strolling through the hustle and bustle of the Citadel wards. Her face was serene as she walked alongside him, the calm and impassiveness in her eyes independent of the hurricane of busy people who dashed alongside them.

The wards always seemed to be busy—since there was no differentiation between night or day on the Citadel, people were always out and about. Even though it was late evening—at least according to Citadel time—the crowds still hadn't relented, the blurring mixture of turians, humans, asari and salarians constantly flowing about them like a great tide.

It was strange how, as they walked through the crowds, people seemed to part before him, leaving a sizable gap between them as they passed by. Recognition wasn't something Shepard was unused to—for a short while, it hadn't seemed he couldn't have gone anywhere without someone calling out his name—but he didn't know why people of other races should know him.

They continued on in silence for a few more minutes before the answer finally came to Shepard.

It was Tali—they were avoiding her. It was obvious—by the way that the blue-crested turian squinted at her suspiciously, the way that the young looking asari glanced over her shoulder back at Tali—they were suspicious.

Shepard clenched his teeth together a little bit tighter as he began to notice every single stare, every single glare, and every scoff with a painful sensitivity. They knew nothing at all—they didn't know how smart, or loyal, or selfless she was. They were all conceited bastards.

But Tali was still calm in the midst of all of it, serene and impassive.

She was wearing her plain purple veil, again. It was likely she didn't have any more—she didn't seem to ever go clothing shopping like so many humans tended to have an affinity for, and, in fact, he hadn't ever even seen her purchase anything for herself. It was always something for the Normandy, or some piece of equipment that Adams needed, or at most, some material to patch her suit up with.

It was a shame that her old veil had been ruined—it really had been quite pretty. The faint purple swirls and specks that looked like a tableau of the stars and the galaxy, glimmering beauty against the stark black of space.

Tali glanced over at Shepard uncomfortably, causing Shepard to awkwardly switch his gaze and pretend that he was looking at a sign behind her.

They walked in silence for another few minutes, Tali wordlessly keeping pace with him as they made their way around another few noisy hallways.

"How do you do it?" Shepard finally said, his voice unintentionally quiet.

Tali glanced over at him for a brief moment before she lowered her gaze back down to her hands. "…Do what?"

"These people," Shepard said with a sad shake of his head. "How can you let them treat you like this?"

"What can I do?" Tali said with a helpless shrug. "I'm a quarian—I can't change that."

Shepard paused for a moment, unable to formulate a response.

"I wasn't born as a human, or a turian, or an asari… so I have to deal with it," Tali said regretfully.

"You were born a quarian," Shepard reiterated. "A quarian who knows more about engines than ninety percent of the Alliance, who can write code like nobody I've ever seen, and who I know will never give up," Shepard said, staring at Tali's diverted gaze. "And I'm proud to say that I've met a quarian."

Tali shrugged as she kept her eyes diverted downwards. After a few moments, Shepard frowned slightly as he turned his attention back to the path before him.

"It's not so bad," Tali said with a shrug. "You never have to worry about getting through the crowds."

"Were the crowds this busy on the Fleet?" Shepard asked, looking for some way to divert the topic. Tali glanced over at him with slight surprise.

"Sometimes," Tali said hesitatingly. "It would get really bad sometimes, especially in the really popular markets—it would be hard to even walk through the crowds."

"Especially with seventeen million people on only fifty thousand ships," Shepard said.

"…How did you know that?" Tali asked, glancing over at Shepard curiously.

"You told me, remember?" Shepard said with a slight smirk. All of his memories felt like so many years ago. The faint memories of his childhood were like watching a completely different person's life passing by. Even his conversation with Tali felt like decades ago—everything felt so detached to him now.

"Right," Tali said. "I almost forgot."

"So?" Shepard said expectantly. "Were the markets like the ones on the Citadel?"

"Barely," Tali said almost immediately and with even the hint of a chuckle in her voice. "Here, everything is so blinky and flashy—every stall has lights and loud music. Back on the Fleet, the markets were… kind of like stepping into someone's house," Tali explained as he waved her hands in small circles in front of her. "The person who was running the stall would usually arrive early in the morning, before the ships were opened up to everybody else, and they would be given a small area sectioned off with curtains. They would display their stuff on shelves or on rugs, and people could walk through and see if they found anything they liked."

"What kind of stuff did they usually sell?"

"All sorts of things," Tali said with a shrug. "Everybody was always trying to compete—so the tapestry-weavers would try to sell omni-tools, and the omni-tool merchants would try to sell food, and the bakers would try to sell electronics—it was all really confusing sometimes."

"Sounds like fun," Shepard said with an unconscious smile on his face. "Back when I was little, sometimes my parents would take me out to the flea market on the weekends," Shepard began to say—the words simply flowing out of his mouth as the memories began to fade into vision.

"Flea?" Tali said curiously. "Like… like the little creatures?"

"It's a weird name," Shepard agreed. "But it's almost the same—people would get little stalls and they would sell things. My parents would hold my hand and they would get me candy if I was good," Shepard said with a chuckle.

"How old were you?" Tali said as she looked over at him, the hints of a smile in her silvery eyes.

Shepard idly bit his tongue as he contemplated the question. "Maybe seven or eight?"

"Oh," Tali said, with the slight hint of disappointment to her voice.

"What?" Shepard said with a concerned frown, worried that he might have offended her somehow.

"I was fifteen," Tali said as she glanced back at him—this time with a smile on her face—he could tell, even through the mask. Shepard laughed quietly as he calmed back down.

"What kind of things did you get?"

"All sorts of things, I guess," Tali said with a shrug. "Whenever my mother took me, she would get me books to read."

"Books?" Shepard said incredulously. "Not toys or games?"

"Toys?" Tali said with an equal amount of unbelief. "What has Garrus been telling you about me?"

"Nothing," Shepard assured her with a chuckle. "It's just that I didn't think anybody even read books anymore."

"Well, I did," Tali said firmly. "And I liked them, too."

"What kind of books did you get?"

"A lot of kinds, I guess," Tali said with a shrug.

"You keep saying that," Shepard pointed out with a smirk.

"Well, it's true," Tali said with a smirk as she glanced over at Shepard. "My mother would find me old books from the homeworld, or ship manuals and stuff like that."

"I guess that explains why you know so much," Shepard said with a chuckle.

"My father taught me most of what I know," Tali said with a shrug. "He's why I started reading engineering textbooks."

"I can only imagine what your father was like, if he's as half as smart as you are."

"I'm not _that_ smart," Tali said with a sly glance over at him. "But he knows more about geth than anybody else on the fleet—he used to spent entire weeks inside of his workshop, tearing them apart and putting them back together again, figuring out what kind of upgrades they had been producing for themselves."

"It must be nice to have a father like that—someone who can look out for you, and help point you in the right direction."

"Yeah," Tali said with a quiet shrug as she glanced back down at her feet for a moment. "It's nice."

"So, what does he do around the Fleet? Chief engineer?"

"Admiral," Tali said with a shrug.

"Admiral?" Shepard said, taken aback slightly. "Like a military admiral?"

"Not quite," Tali began to explain. "In the Fleet, the Admirals are part of governance. Usually, the Conclave controls the Fleet, but in dangerous times the Admiralty will take over. They also control the military, as well as anything that deals with dangers to the Fleet as a whole."

"If only I knew that I've been talking to the daughter of an Admiral," Shepard said with a wry smile.

"It's better if nobody knows," Tali quietly said with a shrug.

"Why's that?" Shepard asked.

"Everyone always expects me to do something amazing," Tali said with a quiet sigh. "I'm supposed to bring back some amazing pilgrimage gift just because my father is an admiral."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Shepard said. "You're fighting Saren and his army of geth—I'm sure that has to count for something."

"Not if I can't bring anything to show for it," Tali said with a shake of her head. "But it doesn't matter—I'm not leaving anytime soon."

"Good," Shepard said with a small smile. "I wouldn't want to lose my royal engineer."

Tali nudged him gently in the ribs with her elbow, eliciting a quiet chuckle from Shepard.

"What was your father like?" Tali asked after a few quiet moments, looking over at Shepard.

"I don't really know," Shepard said with a shrug.

"Come on," Tali said with a warm smile in her eyes. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't really remember much from when I was little," Shepard said with a shrug. "He was nice, I guess—my parents lived in a small house on a back street colony called Mindoir—it wasn't anything special, but it was nice. It was simple—back when the only things I had to worry about were homework and what I would have for dessert."

Tali chuckled quietly. "Homework? You mean like school work?"

"Yeah," Shepard said.

"What's ordinary human life like?" Tali asked.

"You should ask an ordinary human," Shepard said with a chuckle.

"You should have asked an ordinary quarian," Tali retorted.

"Makes things more interesting," Shepard said with a shrug.

"So?" Tali insisted.

Shepard rolled his eyes as he relented. "We'd go to school for a few hours every day, and then we'd go home and I would go visit some friends who lived nearby. I had a boring life—not like you."

"Sounds like fun," Tali said with a chuckle. "At least you weren't in your room reading engineering manuals."

Shepard couldn't resist a grin at the comment. "I was young, though. I must have only been nine or so."

"So, how did you join the military?" Tali asked curiously. "Everything sounded so nice."

"Batarians," Shepard said with a frown and a shrug.

"Batarians?" Tali asked.

"A… group of pirates attacked. They burned down most of the city that I lived in."

"Oh," Tali said uneasily. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright," Shepard said as he smiled reassuringly at her. "I've let it go."

They continued on in an easy silence for another few minutes before Tali stopped and glanced over at him curiously.

"Weren't we supposed to pick up supplies or something?"

"I think so," Shepard said with a chuckle. "Didn't we walk past the vendors a few minutes ago?"

"I think so," Tali said as he turned around and looked back the way that they had come from. She glanced over at Shepard with a smile as they began to head backwards.

"Is there anything that you need to get?" Shepard asked her.

"Nope," Tali said simply. "I think Adams needs some new thermal gel, though."

There it was again—she never seemed to treat herself to anything. Her thoughts seemed to be eternally focused on those around her.

They made it back to the market stalls that they had passed by previously, and stopped at the edge of the plethora of stalls.

"I'll go and get Doctor Chakwas' medical supplies," Shepard began to say. "Do you want to go and get the stuff that Adams needs?"

"Sure," Tali said. "Should we meet back here?"

"Sounds good," Shepard said. "I'll see you in a bit."

"See you," Tali said with a smile as she walked away from him and headed towards some electronics vendor on the other side of the market. Shepard couldn't resist watching her for another few moments.

A wide grin slowly spread across Shepard's face as he sighed contentedly, happy with the way that things seemed to be going. Perhaps things would turn up.

Maybe he'd get something for Tali while he was at it.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Just the D2 Alloy thermal paste," Tali said to the turian who was working behind the counter. She barely noticed as he turned around and began to rummage through the shelves and boxes under the desk.

A small smile spread across Tali's face as she thought of how the evening had been going so far. Her initial reservations had quickly faded away, forgotten in their conversation. She hadn't known who she would be meeting tonight—would it be angry Shepard, or would it be sad Shepard? To her surprise—and more than a little bit of pleasure—the Shepard who had come out to accompany her with a stroll to the market had been the pleasant Shepard—the same one who had given her the buzzer a few weeks back, and the same one who had chatted with her about the Flotilla.

It was strange, the many schisms that seemed to split Shepard. It was hard to push his angry eyes out of her head, but at the same time, that image felt so surreal, so dreamlike and impossible that it was hard to convince herself that she had in fact experienced any of it, and that it wasn't simply some horrible dream that her subconscious mind had concocted for her.

Perhaps her nostalgia hadn't been wrong—maybe there was more to the man than she had begun to believe over the last few days.

"Ma'am?" the turian said, pushing the small box forward on the desk. Without a thought, Tali handed him a credit card and gingerly picked up the box.

The turian handed her back the credit card and gave her a human salute—to which Tali smiled politely and turned around, looking for Shepard amongst the crowd.

Can bad people become good people?

That was the question she had erroneously asked Iroliseth the other day, in the slumps of her slight drunkenness and depression. But the answer was clear to her now.

There was bad and there was good.

Like Saleon—even if he was doing it for a good cause, and even if his intentions might have been good, he was causing unnecessary suffering and pain for the sole purpose of profit. He was a bad person—and even though Tali wouldn't have blamed him for the cause, if he were still alive, she wouldn't have hesitated to stop him from committing such horrible things.

And like Shepard. The entwined strands and ropes in her mind had grown so clear in the last hour—Shepard wasn't the bad person. He was a good person—but there was an undeniable ocean of pain that rested in his eyes. The stark black of his eyes could block it, and the glimmering emeralds of his hazel eyes could hide it, but it was still there, and had always been there since she had met the man.

It made Tali feel guilty about her own concerns—her mother might have died, and her father might not have been the most attentive man in the world, but at least she had a father who she could at least turn to. Shepard's entire life had been burned around him—he had hinted at as much. If the Fleet had been destroyed, or even if her own ship had been destroyed, with her as the sole survivor…

She didn't know if she'd be able to retain her sanity after such a tragedy. Shepard was a strong man to have dealt with that kind of loss.

But she could see something different, only tiny slivers underneath the hard and cold surface that he had built around himself. She had seen through a little bit of that today—a Shepard who could joke and laugh freely, one who could smile with his eyes and not just his mouth.

And as long as that Shepard existed, there was hope.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard slung the plastic bag filled with an assortment of medigel, painkillers, and whatever the hell else the requisitions officer had scrawled on the list—even though the letters might have been familiar to him, the words they formed certainly were not.

Shepard glanced back at where he had come from—Tali was patiently waiting, leaning against one of the railings and looking out the window at the expanse of the Citadel wards beneath them. Typically, Shepard was impassive to the industrial beauty of such a construct, but tonight, with Tali's slender purple frame casually against the wall, it was quite a sight to behold.

But Shepard wasn't finished _quite_ yet. There was still something else to quickly attend to. Shepard felt bad leaving her standing alone, but he would be fast.

With any luck, it wouldn't take too long to find what he was looking for—if he recalled correctly, there was a vendor just downstairs with what he was looking for. Typically, clothing shopping wasn't something he indulged himself in—the only things he wore on his person were uniforms and metal plates—but the age-old tradition wasn't too difficult to understand.

Shepard jogged downstairs, having to push and nudge his way through the crowds as he looked for his destination—which wasn't too difficult for him to find. There was a reason that it had stuck in his mind—that reason being the fact that the stall was loaded with shelves stocked full of colorful fabrics, and eloquent dresses and suits hanging from the rotating bars above. The whole stand was somewhat overbearing for Shepard's militaristic tastes, but he was willing to make an exception.

A young-looking asari—though of course, all asari were "young-looking"—stood on one end of the circular shaped stall, idly leaning against the desk as he stared off into the crowds.

Shepard approached her, glancing around the stall to see if he would catch sight of what he was looking for.

"Can I help you?" the asari tiredly asked Shepard as he came to stand in front of her.

"I need a veil," Shepard said as he continued to glance around the stall.

"Hiding from C-Sec?" The asari said as she raised an eyebrow, still with an elbow resting on the desk.

"No—for a quarian," Shepard explained. "Do you have any?"

"That's an odd request," the asari said. "What would you need with a quarian veil?"

"Do you have any?" Shepard reiterated, this time more firmly as he stared at the asari. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from the desk, stepping around to the back of the stall.

After a few moments, she returned with a big box in hand, which was filled with a variety of folded pieces of fabric.

"So, what do you want?" the asari asked as she began to pull them out gingerly and place them onto the counter. "Is this for a girl or a boy?"

"A girl," Shepard said. "It's a gift."

The asari continued to cast Shepard a couple of strange glances as she dug through the pile, occasionally tossing some to the side, and stacking others on the desk in front of her.

"Well, I've got these red ones, a couple of nice blue ones—maybe she'd like pink? Pink would probably go—"

"How about purple?" Shepard interrupted.

"If you say so," the asari said with a shrug as she began to shovel the multicolored pieces of fabric back into the box. After a few moments of digging, she pulled out a couple of bland looking purple cloths which looked worn and faded.

"Don't you have anything… nicer?" Shepard asked.

"These are all in style," the asari assured him. "She'd probably love these—I don't know what she has now, but I'm sure it's an improvement."

"There's nothing else?"

The asari rolled her eyes again as she delved back into the pile, fishing out another couple of plain looking scarves before she reached her arm all the way down to the bottom and shook her head.

"That's it," she said as she extracted her arm with a shrug and slowly shook her head.

Shepard slowly nodded a few times as his frown made its way onto his face.

"Maybe you can check somewhere else?" the asari offered.

"Maybe," Shepard said with a weak shrug. "Thanks anyways."

Shepard turned around and walked away, deftly stepping in between the people that walked past him.

Maybe he could look for a new veil later—he could bring it back to her on the Normandy. That wouldn't be so bad either. Then she could—

The sound of shattering glass rang through the air as suddenly the crowds all began to push towards Shepard, enveloping him in the confusing tide of people who suddenly felt the need to run.

"Get down!" someone shouted off in the distance—in time for a loud crack to fill the air accompanied by another shatter of glass.

Shepard stood up tall, fighting against the tide of people who ran towards him, and he caught sight of a group of masked men standing at the far end of the market place. They wore red colored cloths wrapped over their faces and each held rifles in their hand—which they dangerously pointed towards anybody who strayed too near or didn't take the hint and run.

"Everybody scram!" one of the bandits shouted—though Shepard couldn't make out which bandit the voice had come from. In moments, shopkeepers had dived down below their desks, reaching for their emergency weapons, and the shoppers had quickly decided that their life was worth much more than their curiosity. In all the tumult, Shepard stood still.

"Stop!" a turian shouted from somewhere to his left—a C-Sec officer dressed in light combat garb and with a pistol in his hand, which he pointed at the seven bandits who were standing at the opposite end of the room.

Shepard commended the turian for his bravery—despite being so woefully equipped compared to the bandits, and despite being horribly outnumbered, he still put his service above his life.

A loud crack split the air again as one of the bandits fired his rifle, sending a bullet slamming straight through the turian's shields and skull, spraying a gout of blue blood across the floor.

Shepard, realizing the imminent danger that he was in, tapped on his omni-tool a few times as he heard the familiar engaging of his cloaking module.

Two minutes—quite a long time. Typically, when he had his full suit of armor on, he could only ever get thirty seconds from the thing at most. Perhaps his simple uniform would serve him well.

"You will all comply, or else you will be shot," the lead bandit shouted in a menacing voice, the only people left in the room being the shopkeepers huddled under their desks. "Nobody else needs to die—unless you make us hurt you."

A woman shouted from the other side of the room as one of the men roughly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her across the counter, throwing her onto the ground with a resounding slam.

"She had a gun," the bandit informed them.

The lead turned his menacing gaze back to the seemingly empty room.

"Relinquish your guns now or get shot!"

From behind a few of the counters, pistols and other small weapons were gingerly placed on the tops of the desks as another of the bandits casually strolled around the picked them up, placing them into a small sack.

"C-Sec will get you!"

The lead bandit turned to face the asari—in fact, the same one that had been helping Shepard—who had bravely stood up. He stepped toward her with an expression that Shepard knew did not bode well for the woman.

Despite his approach, the asari stood still as the bandit stepped close and lunged for her wrist, grabbing onto it as the woman began to pulse with biotic energy.

The bandit, however, was too quick, as his fist lashed out and hit her in the face as he pulled her towards himself, dragging her over the counter like the other woman and throwing her to the ground in a crying heap in the middle of the bandits.

"What do you want us to do with her?" one of the bandits asked the lead.

"Have some fun," he said cruelly as he turned his attention back to the other defenseless vendors.

The bandits smiled wickedly—he could see the malice in their eyes—as they dragged the girl to her feet and held a pistol to her throat.

Shepard had been waiting for an opportune moment—one that would let him take all of the bandits by surprise, but there wasn't a time better than this. If he waited, things could continue to go wrong very quickly.

"Let's see how well you dance, asari," the bandit holding her up said malevolently.

Sadly for him, he would never see again.

Disengaging his cloak module so that he was right behind the man, he lashed forward with his knife held upside down in his right fist, easily tearing through the Kevlar-like material that he wore and wrenching it up his spine. The bandit yelped in pain as he let go of the asari and fell to the ground, his legs falling out from underneath him as his spine was severed.

"What the hell happened?" the lead bandit shouted out as he spun around at the sound, but nothing had changed other than the fact one of his companions was now lying on the ground with blood spraying out of his back.

"S—someone attacked!" one of the bandits shouted dumbly, still confused at what had happened.

Shepard smiled slightly from a few feet away, his cloaking module working like a charm.

"Who did it?" the lead bandit shouted, apparently assuming that one of the shopkeepers had attacked him somehow. "If you don't confess, I'll kill you all one by one!"

Shepard reappeared behind the lead bandit, swinging his right fist in an arc with his blade held in hand as he brought it to the back of the man's neck. A perfectly executed move—one that would kill him instantly.

But by some unknown prowess, the bandit ducked forward as he swung his left arm back and grabbed Shepard by the leg, pulling it out from underneath him.

Surprised by the retaliation, but with years of training instantly kicking in, he let his leg get dragged back as he kicked and rolled away from his grasp, back on his feet in a moment.

"Get him!" the lead bandit shouted to his dumbfounded companions, who realized they held weapons in their hands, and turned them to fire at Shepard.

Ignoring the heavy thuds against his back—which meant his shields were still in place—he dived over top of the counter of the clothing stall, hiding behind the thick metal as he caught his breath and redrew his battle plans.

They would be upon him in moments—he needed to make every second count. He quickly reengaged his cloaking module, jumping back over the counter as he realized he had precious few moments left as an invisible—and shielded—man.

Two of the bandits ran to the counter without a second thought, a third quickly following suit. The other two bandits, standing with their backs to each other and their weapons fanning wide, scanned the room as they apparently wised up about their target's abilities to disappear.

Without a pause, Shepard positioned himself behind the two bandits who had chased after him, and flung out his wicked dagger and took one in the back of the neck. In a blurry of motion, he pulled his dagger away and slammed it into the other man's back as he used the anchor to spin himself around, dropping the dying bandit's body in front of him as the hail of expected gunfire began to fly towards him.

Three bandits. Eleven percent shields.

Dropping his victim onto the ground, Shepard rolled backwards and dived behind another steel counter, his breath running ragged as he regained his composure. He wouldn't be able to risk another cloak-and-stab—he may have been able to do it twice, but three times would be pushing his life.

Shepard pulled his pistol off its holster and levelled it at one of the iridescent store signs across the market hall. In a brilliant flash, the sign went out, sending sparks and shattering glass spraying across the market hall. The small fragments of glass bounced off the bandits harmlessly, but Shepard hadn't intended for the blast to kill.

In the momentary distraction, Shepard dashed across the market and dived behind another metal counter, this time in a much more advantageous position behind the bandits, still approaching the large central clothing vendor from all sides. Like the shadow of death itself, he dashed forward and out of his cover.

The three bandits had wisely spread out—if they were all bunched together, it would have been a simple matter indeed for Shepard to have gutted them all in one smooth movement. But their fatal flaw came in the fact that although he couldn't take them out all at once, their attention was so focused on their "victim" desperately hiding behind the store counter that nobody would notice him coming from behind.

In the same well practiced movements of his youth, Shepard wrapped an arm around the man's neck and he jerked his blade backwards in one smooth movement, silencing the bandit as his legs collapsed from beneath him. As the bandit fell, Shepard grabbed onto him by the waist and lowered him to the ground, the casualty unnoticed as the other two stalked their prey.

"He's not here!" the lead bandit shouted out as he finally rounded the corner, looking back in terror to realize that another of his companions had been slain in his momentary focus.

His last companion fell to the ground beside him as well, far too late for the lead bandit to save him. In his place stood a human—a cocky grin on his face as he sauntered over towards him, holding a bloody dagger in his hand. The bandit sputtered helplessly as he realized that their attacker didn't even have a rifle—or even armor!

The lead bandit's momentary terror vanished in an instant as he realized how short his life had suddenly become. Levelling his rifle, he began to fire at Shepard, who ducked low and slid, feet first, towards him on the ground. As he lowered his rifle to take down the nimble man, Shepard lashed out with his right fist, locking his rifle in between his knife and his wrist as he wrenched the weapon out of his hands.

Unarmed, the bandit backed away rapidly, reverting to a simple weapon that he likely had never intended to use in a serious combat situation—a long bowie knife.

Undeterred by the silvery gleam of metal which the bandit held in front of him with a two-handed grip, he advanced forward.

Shepard sent his knife flying forward in a blur of motion, testing out the man's defenses. Without blinking, the bandit swung his blade to the side, knocking Shepard's attack harmlessly wide.

Shepard's smile widening, he feinted to the right as the bandit twitched to the side. Shepard deftly spun his dagger around in his hand and brought it to his left, intending to slide it through the man's ribs. The bandit brought the blade around to his right, similarly parrying that attack as well.

Finding himself at a relative advantage, the bandit took the opportunity to lash forward with his longer blade, putting his left foot up to Shepard as he put all of his weight behind the thrust.

Some intuition telling Shepard that the attack was coming made him pull his right foot back as he bent backwards away from the blade, letting it slide past his stomach as he spun around on his left foot and brought his knife up to the man's right arm and slid it until he felt the satisfying grating of metal on bone.

Shocked by the swift retaliation and the realization that he had been playing into Shepard's game sent him flying to the floor, his knife weakly falling out of the grasp of his right hand. Shepard put a foot on the man's back, pushing the air out of his chest as he spun his knife around so that the blade was facing downwards in his hand.

The man was missing two fingers on his right hand.

"I wasn't lying," Shepard said as he dropped heavily onto the man, the blade easily sliding through his back.

He pulled the bloodied weapon out of its place and stoically wiped it off on the man's shoulder before he tossed it back into the sheath at his leg and surveyed the damage around the market.

A few braver shopkeepers began to stand up, the silence pushing them onwards as they witnessed the same scene. Six bandits with red bandanas lying on the ground with blood spilling out of a variety of blade wounds. Shattered glass peppered the whole market, and merchandise had been tossed everywhere in the tumult.

"C-Sec! Put your weapons down!"

A group of at least eight heavily armed turians wearing thick suits of combat armor and carrying heavy looking assault rifles in their hands charged into the room, instantly pointing their weapons at the sole man standing in the middle of the room.

"Weapons down!" the same turian shouted as his finger twitched dangerously over the trigger.

"They're dead," Shepard said nonchalantly as he pointed a thumb back at the dead bodies on the ground.

"Down!" the turian shouted again as he fired at warning shot at the ground next to Shepard's feet.

"Stop!" the asari yelled from behind him—frankly forgotten in the chaos. She ran to stand beside Shepard, despite the imminent threat of many turians pointing their weapons in his direction.

"He saved my life! He killed all of them!"

"He did!" another merchant piped in from across the room—a salarian.

"He's a hero!" another shouted.

Shepard smiled slightly as he heard his praises being yelled from around the room. It rather reminded him of old times.

The turians glanced at each other uneasily, but they lowered their weapons as they walked forward.

"How did you take them down?" the officer asked him, looking at the brutal carnage with some admiration now that he knew that man in front of him was most likely not a foe.

"By killing them," Shepard said with a sly grin on his face. He spun around on his heel as he walked back over towards the clothing stall he had come here to visit.

The box which had been filled with the veils had been tossed to the ground and all of the fabric had been spread out over the floor in a mess. Though, in the chaos and tumult, Shepard spotted something.

Being careful not to step on any of the other pieces of fabric, he leaned over and gingerly picked out a royal colored piece of purple fabric, tinged with both darker and lighter shades in a mixture of spirals and a fading labyrinth of crosshatched lines.

"This will do," Shepard said as he turned to face the asari, who stared at him as if he were crazy. "This will do very nicely."

* * *

Hey again, everybody!

A pair of special commendations today, to Azzorath (who I hope you've all come to know and love) for grand ideas and helping pull me out of the quicksand of writer's block, and ProjektNemesis7, who did a similar thing and also provided the little piece of poetry for this chapter. Thanks, the two of you! :)

Thanks for all the reviews as well! All reviews are appreciated-even critical and negative reviews. It's all for the best!

As always, thanks for reading, and I hope I'll see you again in a few more days!


	28. Novocaine

**:: Chapter Twenty Eight :: **Novocaine **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_A prayer unheard_

_Followed a shift_

_In sound_

_A moment_

_And a chance_

_Release_

_Revolve_

_Renew_

_A wound that grew from within_

_A rhythm and rhyme_

_Planting on borrowed time_

_Release_

_Revolve_

_Renew_

_Rebuild again_

_-Rosetta-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Where could he be? And what in the world was going on?

Tali gripped the shotgun slung across her back as he looking over top of the people running and pushing past her, terror filling their eyes. Tali's instincts told her that she should be running with them and not against them, but a strange knot in the pit of her stomach told her otherwise.

Shepard had gone in that direction—was he there as well? Tali would have seen him if he had returned—the man was tall, even by human standards, and something about him was just simply difficult to miss.

Or was Shepard the cause of this chaos?

No—it couldn't be. He had been fine just minutes ago—he was just going to get medical supplies. It couldn't have been him.

But what if he was in danger too?

No, he was a trained soldier—he would be fine. In fact, Tali would be more of a burden than an asset if something was going on.

But Tali couldn't resist stepping forward.

"Out of the way!" a gruff turian voice shouted from behind her. Tali turned her head to catch sight of a squad of somewhere close to ten turian soldiers heavily equipped in silvery colored armor, each toting a long rifle and a pair of them even holding glassy shields as they marched through the crowd, not hesitating to shove the stunned civilians out of the way as they ran past.

C-Sec—if they were sending a fully armored squadron of soldiers, something terrible must have happened. What would warrant a full platoon of soldiers? A bomb? A group of rogue mercenaries? An assassination?

Or a broken Alliance soldier?

Tali ran forward without hesitation, her slender frame easily slipping through the crowd which pushed against her like a great wave.

"Get back!" one of the turians shouted—apparently at her, since she was the only one brave—or perhaps stupid—enough to fight the flow.

"It's dangerous!" the turian shouted again as he extended a hand and shoved it roughly into Tali's stomach, unexpectedly throwing her onto the ground.

Flaring with anger, Tali scrambled to her feet. "Bosh'tet!" she shouted as she bared her teeth at the man—a wasted expression, but she was sure the meaning would be transmitted easily enough.

Tali felt a hand on her shoulder gently pulling her backwards. She tried to shake the hand away, but when the offender wouldn't let go, she turned to face the human woman who watched her concernedly.

"Let me go!" Tali shouted at the woman, shaking her arm to get free again.

"Pirates are attacking the merchants!" the woman said—almost pleadingly. "It's too dangerous! C-Sec is going in! They'll protect whoever you're looking for!"

Pirates—so it wasn't Shepard?

"What did the pirates look like?" Tali said, allowing herself to be pushed back by the crowd, though still facing backwards.

"They were human—I only saw one of them, he was wearing some kind of red bandana," the woman explained, though she herself looked teary-eyed. "C-Sec will stop them—they have to," the woman said.

Tali nodded her thanks and headed back towards the hallway. She might not have had years of combat training or attendance to any military academies, but she wasn't useless. If Shepard was around, she was sure he was going to be in the fray—and if he was fighting, Tali would fight too.

"Stop!" the turian said, this time extending his hand before Tali got close enough for him to shove away. "Nobody's allowed in!"

"My… Commander is in there!" Tali shouted, trying to push past the stubborn turian.

"There aren't any quarians in there," the turian said calmly, his arm extended to stop Tali.

"He's a human, you bosh'tet! Let me go!"

"All clear!" another of the turian officers shouted from somewhere down the hallway.

The turian glanced backwards momentarily—still holding Tali in place—before he looked back at her. "The bandits are dealt with," he said reassuringly. "Whoever you're looking for can wait for a few minutes for us to account the situation."

Tali bit a lip and slowly backed away, crossing her arms over top of her chest as she looked down the hallway for some sight of Shepard coming out of the darkness.

The turian glanced apologetically at Tali every so often, but still held his post dutifully. Tali's initial anger at the officer had quickly faded, tempered by understanding and a strong faith that Shepard would be fine.

Tali nervously paced around for a few minutes, occasionally glancing down the dark stairwell.

"Shepard!" Tali found herself shouting as the familiar man—his blue uniform wrinkled and stained with splashes of blood—appeared from the stairwell, nodding to the turians on duty with a grin on his face.

Tali dashed over towards Shepard, a look of concern on her face as she scanned him and took note of all the bloodstains that covered him.

"What happened?" Tali said, glancing down at a particularly large stain across the left side of his stomach.

"Just a couple of bandits," Shepard said easily as he watched Tali with a grin on his face.

"What are you so smiley for?" Tali muttered as she reached in her armor and pulled out a packet of medigel that she had with her. "Here, take this."

Shepard's eyes widened slightly as he waved a hand in the air in front of him. "Oh, no, these aren't mine," Shepard said as he tugged on his uniform. "The bandits—my shields hadn't even dropped."

Tali chuckled slightly to herself as she released the pent up breath that she was holding in. Of _course_ Shepard wouldn't have been injured—he ran into a group of pirates with only a uniform, and pistol and a knife, and came out without a single injury.

"Here, Tali, could you hold this for a moment?" Shepard said, pushing a small, brown colored box towards her that she hadn't really noticed with her attention focused on the bloodstains. Tali curiously took the box from him, holding it in the air between them.

"Can you open it up and make sure that everything inside is alright?" Shepard said with a sly grin on his face.

"Uhm… what is it?" Tali said, slightly confused.

"Supplies and whatnot," Shepard said with a shrug. Tali watched him for a moment, but relented as she tore the plastic seal and opened up the top of the box.

"Shepard—what is…" Tali lifted the elegant purple colored fabric out of the box, and she couldn't help but admire the complex designs that covered its surface.

"For—for wrapping something? Or for cleaning something on the ship?" Tali instantly said, not wanting to assume that the beautiful piece of fabric was perhaps for her.

"If you like," Shepard said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I think it would look much nicer if you wore it."

Tali felt her cheeks flushing with color as the full impact of the gift hit her in one blow. Shepard had gone to buy supplies, fought off a group of bandits, and then come back with a new veil?

"I—uh—this is… it's beautiful," Tali said, stammering as she tried to thank him. "You… you didn't have to—I mean, not that I don't like it, but I mean—"

"You needed an upgrade," Shepard said with a smile. "I thought that it looked nice."

"It does," Tali said as her smile widened across her face. This was perhaps even more incredible than her old veil.

Tali's omni-tool lit up on her wrist and began to blink softly. Shepard's did as well, Tali noticed, in a very similar fashion.

"Crew of the Normandy," Kaidan's voice said through their omni-tools. "In honor of the great Commander Shepard, drinks are on me tonight!"

Tali glanced up at Shepard for a moment, but his only response was to shrug modestly.

"Head over to the Nova Lounge for drinks all night!"

Tali's omni-tool faded from existence as the transmission cut short, with Shepard giving Tali a strange look.

"Sounds like Kaidan's got quite the party planned," Shepard said with a smirk.

"Should we go?" Tali asked.

"I think so," Shepard said with a grin. "But, before we go, there's one more thing."

Shepard reached into one of the pockets of his navy uniform and pulled out a small metal rod which was flattened out on the bottom and had a button on the side.

Tali's was speechless as he handed it to her.

"I found it in one of the trash bins on the ship," Shepard began to explain somewhat sheepishly. "When I found out it was yours, I tried to fix it."

Tali gently pressed the button on the side of the bar and out of the side, a holographic image of a younger Tali appeared, snuggled up beside her mother and father who had their arms wrapped around her with smiles evident even through the masks that they wore.

"Shepard…" Tali said, taken aback by the sudden appearance of this piece of treasure which she had lost.

"I knew it meant a lot to you," Shepard said. "I had to tear apart an old frame of my own to replace the display chip and the memory card was so worn through that I needed to—"

Tali leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Shepard, causing him to jump slightly at the contact. After a few moments, Tali disengaged and shyly looked down at the holographic picture, embarrassed at her instinctive hug.

"Thank you so much," Tali said again as she looked into the hologram. "It means a lot to me."

"I'm glad that I could fix it," Shepard said with a warm smile. "But I thought that you were a quarian?"

"Psh," Tali said as she waved a hand in front of her. "It doesn't mean I can make display processors and memory modules appear out of thin air."

Tali glanced up at Shepard and smiled a little bit more—even if he couldn't see it through the mask.

"Should we get going?" Tali said after a few quiet moments, pointing backwards to where she recalled the location of the bar.

"Sounds like a plan," Shepard said with a grin.

Tali led the way towards the bar which wasn't a very long trip away from the market district they were in. Shepard occasionally cast her strange glances as they arrived at splits in the path and Tali knew where to go inherently, but he didn't ask how she knew its location.

"So, you're the great Commander Shepard now?" Tali asked teasingly to Shepard as they stepped onto one of the fast moving, rectangular shaped cars which ran many times down the length of each of the wards, providing quick transportation between each of the major districts on the Citadel.

"Apparently," Shepard said with a shrug.

"So, what happened?" Tali asked curiously. "I never heard anything down in engineering."

"We found an old friend of Kaidan's," Shepard explained. "They were in a tight spot—we helped them get out."

"The great Hero of the Normandy," Tali said jokingly. Shepard rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"For all that I'm concerned about, just plain old "Shepard" is fine with me."

Tali toyed with the idea of asking why nobody ever called him by his first name—especially since almost everyone on the Normandy operated on a first name basis except for maybe Doctor Chakwas and Adams—who said that he had grown so used to "Adams" that he barely responded to "Greg". Perhaps it was a similar situation for Shepard—maybe he was just so used to the name that it felt wrong to be called something else?

Either way, John didn't sound like a horrible name. It was short, simple and rather nice.

"Do we get off here?" Shepard asked, having resigned to being the co-pilot for their journey to the bar.

"Yup," Tali said, continuing to lead the way as she stepped of the tram and back into the crowded buildings where the lights were dimmed to make it feel as late as it probably was.

"Right there," Tali pointed out to the same large establishment that she had visited a few days ago with Iroliseth.

"Wow," Shepard said. "You could probably give Garrus a run for his money with navigation."

Tali merely smiled silently as they stepped through the wide gates being illuminated by the bright blue and purple colored neon lights which proudly displayed "Nova Lounge" above the door.

"Welcome, associate Zorah," the turian bouncer—evidently the same one from the previous day—said, though how he had come to know her name was a mystery. Perhaps Iroliseth had told him?

As Tali and Shepard stepped past him and up the stairs, Shepard cast her a strange look.

"_Associate_ Zorah?" he asked with some amusement on his face.

"I _might_ have been here once before," Tali said with a sly glance over at Shepard.

The bar was different tonight than it was previously, though—whereas the last time she had come, she could recall pumping music, loud crowds and an overstuffed dance floor, this time the whole place was much more sparsely populated, with close to half the tables empty and a much less obnoxious tune playing in the background.

"Shepard!" Kaidan shouted from across the room, seated at a table beside Garrus, Wrex, and Ashley—who had a slight frown on her face and was idly sipping an amber colored drink.

"Late to the party," Garrus said, leaning back in his chair as he watched the two of them walking in.

Kaidan stood up from his chair and ran over to meet Shepard.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard, I wanted to find some way to thank you for everything that you've done," Kaidan said with a wide smile on his face. "If it weren't for you… things wouldn't have turned out as great as they did."

"Anything for crew," Shepard said with a warm smile on his face.

"Come on, sit down!" Kaidan said as he walked back over to the table and plopped down in his seat, picking up his glass which was filled with a bluish tinted liquid and taking a swig out of it.

Shepard shrugged to himself and sat down in one of the empty chairs, letting Tali sit down beside him. Shepard glanced over at her momentarily, still trying to understand what series of events might have led her to this particular bar.

"So, what have you been up to, Shepard?" Kaidan asked casually as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Looks like something fun," Wrex said with a throaty chuckle. "You wear bloodstains well."

"Didn't think you could hurt yourself _that_ badly on the Citadel," Garrus said jokingly.

"Bandits," Shepard said with a wry smile. "Though that they'd try to ruin my downtime—and these stains are what's left of them."

"To stopping bad people," Kaidan said, lifting his glass into the air in front of him while he simultaneously slid a glass of orange colored liquid over to him across the table.

"To stopping bad people," Garrus reiterated as he lifted his glass. Wrex and Ashley silently lifted their glasses as well.

"And to being heroes," Tali added heartily. Shepard couldn't help but smile as he lifted his glass.

"And to having great friends."

Each of them took a long swig of their drinks. Shepard smiled slightly, the sight of Kaidan sitting beside the massive krogan so similar to Boyd sitting beside the Kurt—who might half been half-krogan based on size alone.

"Got anything stronger around here?" Wrex idly asked Kaidan.

Shepard smiled wryly. Wrex was rather like Kurt—the bear of a man had liked his ale both strong and plentiful.

"I'm going to get a drink," Tali said quietly as she stepped away from the table and headed towards the bar on the opposite side of the room.

"I think I need something else too," Shepard muttered as he stood up and followed her over.

"…something that won't get me drunk too badly," Shepard heard Tali saying as he walked up beside her.

"I'll try my best," the turian bartender said with a smirk as he turned around and began searching through the shelves inside of the full cooler. After a few moments, he spun back around with a pair of cylindrical tubes in hand, filled with a light purple colored liquid.

"Get me something too," Shepard said as Tali picked up the two tubes and leaned against the counter.

"Preferences?" the bartender asked.

"Something non-alcoholic that won't kill me," Shepard said with a smirk.

"Non-alcoholic?" the bartender asked incredulously. "What's the point of coming to a bar if you're not getting drunk?"

"I'd rather not get drunk," Shepard said with a simple shrug. It was a rather simple philosophy he had kept for most of his life—if alcohol could make you less aware, less adept, and less intelligent, why drink the stuff?

"Fair enough," the bartender said with a shrug as he turned around and ran a hand through his cooler. After a few moments, he returned with a metal container similar in shape to Tali's, though he couldn't see what was inside.

"Just carbonated sugar water," the turian said. "I see humans mixing the stuff with their drinks all the time—but I couldn't drink the stuff."

Shepard nodded his thanks as he turned around, his drink in hand as he and Tali sat back down at the table.

"So, what's next, Shepard?" Kaidan asked as he sat down.

"Next?"

"Who are we taking out?" Kaidan asked with a grin.

"I haven't gotten my orders yet," Shepard said with a shrug. "Anderson said that he'd contact me as soon as he figured out what he was planning on doing."

"So, it's a mystery," Kaidan said with a smirk. "Fair enough—it makes things more interesting, at least."

"Kaidan," Garrus interjected, a hand on his chin. "Sniper rifle or shotgun?"

"Biotics," Kaidan said with a chuckle. "Why shoot when you can throw?"

"Pick," Wrex grumbled from behind his glass.

"Fine," Kaidan said with a smirk. "I'd say sniper rifle."

"Ha," Garrus said, looking at Wrex.

"Means nothing," Wrex said with a shrug. "I still beat you twice."

"And I beat you twice," Garrus retorted. "Which means we're even—except for me, since Kaidan agrees."

"What about Shepard? And the quarian?" Wrex said.

"Tali," Shepard said pointedly.

"Yeah, yeah," Wrex said. "They both use shotguns—so I think that means I'm winning."

Garrus scoffed as he waved a hand in front of him. "We'll see about that."

"What's wrong, Shepard?" Kaidan asked from across the table. "Something wrong with the drink?"

"No," Shepard said. "I just don't drink."

"Why not?" Kaidan said. "It's nice."

Shepard glanced over at Tali—though why he did he didn't know—but she merely shrugged.

Shepard alternated between looking at Kaidan's intent stare and the tall glass of orange liquid for a few moments.

"To hell with it," he finally said, lifting the orange glass and downing half of it in one gulp, the burning and freezing strangely combining as the liquid flowed down his throat.

Alcohol simply wasn't to his tastes—the bitter liquids never appealed to him, even with the slight sweet aftertaste he felt now. That, coupled with the side effects made him immune to the drink's charms.

Shepard took another swig of his drink, finishing it up as he dropped the empty glass onto the table.

"To great friends," Shepard whispered to himself as he watched Wrex giving Garrus another playful shove.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"And then… then—then the damn fool tripped down the stairs while he was running away!"

Garrus' tale was met by a series of loud laughs and guffaws as their group sauntered along the Citadel, making their way back—hopefully, since Shepard wasn't really paying attention—to the Normandy.

"You're kidding," Kaidan said with a wide grin. "He _tripped?_"

"Talk about dumb criminals," Ashley even threw in with a laugh. She had been silent at first, but as the night grew on—and as she continued to drink, Shepard suspected—she had lost her grim persona and joined in with the laughter and jokes.

"You guys should have been there to see it," Kaidan began to say. "That last planet we went down on—there were a couple of guys there that we needed to get out safely, but then, this _big_ and _tough_ Alliance Captain showed up, trying to shoot down the guys we were getting out."

Shepard smiled slightly at the way that Kaidan's storytelling. He had been one of the more vocal speakers throughout the night—telling humorous tales of drunken bar fights and biotic scuffles in the evenings. He had a knack for storytelling—Shepard could give him that.

"Anyways, Shepard and I had to go and face up old "tough and rough", but when we tried to talk to him, he tossed a boot in my chest and knocked me down on the ground!"

"Down on the ground again?" Ashley threw in innocuously.

"Be quiet," Kaidan said as he shot her a sidelong smirk. "Anyways, the guy goes to do the same thing to Shepard, but then Shepard just tosses him straight down to the ground without even blinking an eye. Then he leans in up close and picks the guy up by the scruff and whispers into his ear…"

"I killed three hundred batarians on Elysium. I've beaten more people than you've ever seen. And I destroyed a three hundred year old mercenary guild. So don't even _think_ for a moment that you have a chance."

Shepard smiled at Kaidan's impression—it wasn't too bad, but he had gotten a couple of the lines wrong.

"Then what did old "rough and tough" do next?" Garrus asked.

"You can see the blood rushing from the guy's face—he goes so pale that he would have been able to hide in a pile of snow. Then he slowly lifted himself out of the dust, staring at Shepard the whole time, as he dusts himself off and turns around to his crew, trying to stand up straight even though he just got his ass handed to him on a silver platter."

"Should have shot him," Wrex threw in.

"Wouldn't have been as fun," Shepard said with a smirk.

"I've got to tell you guys about the time I went looking for this guy called _Victor Petrovnich,_" Wrex began to say. Shepard merely smiled and he turned to Tali, who had been trailing behind their party a little bit the whole time.

"Are you feeling alright?" Shepard asked. Even through the haze of alcohol in his mind, something seemed off.

Tali glanced up at him with what looked like a smirk on her face.

"Joker's going to ask about the damned burrs again."

Tali laughed quietly, and Shepard joined in as well—though he had no idea what she was talking about. Perhaps she had drunk more than he thought.

"I think I've had enough for one night," Shepard said as he motioned his head towards the hallway which would lead to the Normandy's docking bay. "I'm going to head back."

"Me too," Tali said. "I don't think I can take another of Wrex's 'battle stories'," Tali said with a chuckle.

The two silently made their way through the hallways—eerily silent compared to usual—admiring the sights of the Citadel surrounding them.

They reached the docking bay as usual, but as they climbed the stairs, an unfamiliar woman wearing a blue colored dress was waiting for them, casually leaning against the railing.

"Commander Shepard!" she called out, waving a hand in the air as if her voice wasn't enough.

"Yes?" Shepard asked, stiffening slightly so that he wouldn't look too much out of it.

"Khalisah Bint Sinan Al-Jilani, Westerlund News," the woman said, the floating camera which Shepard hadn't noticed coming to life behind her.

"I'm not available for interview at this point in time," Shepard said, putting a hand in front of him as he turned away from the woman.

"Is it true that you're back in action after suffering horrible trauma from losing your last squad?"

Shepard sighed and shook his head. "It wasn't trauma—and I was only off duty for a couple of months."

"So does that mean you don't care about the losses? Is this the kind of person who we should have in the military?"

Shepard turned around, unable to ignore the accusation.

"Those people meant more to me than anything else ever did," Shepard said, his tone low and ominous. "If I could have done anything to change what happened, do you really think I wouldn't have done it?"

"Why did you return to action so soon? Shouldn't you have been given the mandatory one-year discharge following post traumatic stress recognition?"

"I chose to go back," Shepard explained, exasperated. "It's easier than sitting around—"

"What is? Fighting? Killing? Is this the attitude that we want from the people protecting us?"

"You know nothing about Commander Shepard," Tali said, stepping forward and speaking firmly. "He's risked his life countless times protecting people that he doesn't even know—have you already forgotten what he did on Elysium? If it weren't for the actions of him and his brave squad, that entire colony would be burned to the ground! If it weren't for him, the geth would have already destroyed humanity! And if it weren't for him, I would be dead right now!"

Khalisah paused momentarily, taken aback at Tali's sudden and forceful tirade. After a few moments, however, she regained her composure and quietly cleared her throat.

"Commander Shepard, is it true that you're fostering aliens on your ship while you should be focusing on matters of galactic importance?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Shepard said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You haven't met my crew—and you haven't met Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Can you hack a geth in under five seconds? Can you open a locked door as easily as you can clap your hands? Can you truly say that everything you've done was for the good of the galaxy? No—you can't, but Tali can. So many of you have these damned preconceived notions that quarians are thieves and beggars, but that's because you're all too ignorant to even look one in the eyes!"

Khalisah tried to interrupt him—probably with another stupid question—but Shepard cut her off before the words could leave her mouth.

"Quarians aren't criminals just because you're too stupid to think for yourselves instead of believing what everyone tells you—they're more honorable than turians, and they don't put prejudices on every damned person who looks different than they do!"

"C—Shepard!" Khalisah said, trying to get a word in.

"No more stupid questions!" Shepard said, stepping dangerously close to her. "Your prejudice and witlessness make the whole Alliance look like xenophobic assholes."

Without another word, Shepard spun around on his heel and marched back towards the Normandy, Tali quickly following suit. Khalisah stood in place, trying to sputter some response to Shepard's aggressive response.

"You just admitted that you have a quarian in your crew," Tali said quietly to him as they stepped into the airlock.

"And I'm damned proud of it," Shepard said as he smiled wryly at her. "Hopefully that will change somebody's mind."

Tali smirked slightly at him as the airlock finished its decontamination.

"And thanks for defending me," Shepard added as he glanced over at Tali.

"You deserve better," Tali said.

"Back already?" Joker said as the airlock door opened up. "As if zero-three-hundred wasn't late enough—pushed it 'till zero-five-hundred!"

"As if you weren't sleeping the whole time," Shepard retorted to the man.

"Oh—crap—uh, sorry, Commander," Joker stammered as he realized that it wasn't just Tali coming back in.

"Extra burrs tonight, Joker," Tali said offhandedly to him as they walked past. Joker burst in to laughter, bending over in his seat as he waved them away, while Shepard cast Tali another curious look.

"I'll explain someday," Tali said with a warm smile.

They made it back downstairs and to the elevator, where Tali stepped in and stared at Shepard for a few moments.

"Thank you for everything," Tali said quietly. "I had lots of fun."

"Me too," Shepard said with a small smile.

Tali stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him again, and this time, Shepard didn't almost jump away. Shepard gently embraced her, taking comfort from her small frame.

"Good night," Shepard said as she slowly backed away back into the elevator.

"Bye," Tali said as she waved a hand at Shepard and smiled as the elevator doors slid shut.

Shepard took a deep breath, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as a wide smile spread across his face.

What a marvelous day.

Shepard made his way around the corner and to his cabin, closing the door behind him before he proceeded to unbutton his bloodied uniform and cast it to the side along with his weapons. Shepard quickly stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash the dried blood away from his skin as he felt exhaustion overtaking him along with the buzzing in his head.

He dried himself off with a fuzzy towel that had been graciously left for him, and slipped into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants which he hadn't ever worn before. Yawning, he stepped over to the cabinets on the side of the room and pulled out a bottle filled with a glittering, clear liquid and placed it on his desk.

Just one more drink. Shepard poured a small amount of the liquid into a glass that he had also pulled out of the counter, and took a drink of it, letting the burning cold liquid flow down his throat as he involuntarily shuddered.

Shepard leapt on top of his bed, wrapping himself underneath the warm blankets as the alcohol blurred his thoughts a little bit further and dimmed his sight until he slowly slipped away into the darkness of sleep.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The hunter knelt low, his slender frame hidden from view by the rocky ravine which he was perched precariously on. The drop below his feet stretched on for hundreds of meters, but the hunter did not know fear.

The facility was only minutes away. The next victim would fall.

As silent as the nighttime winds, the hunter scampered over the rocky cliff face and onto the thin strands of green grass which covered the surface of this planet.

At the edge of his view was the building—a large structure, with a grand domed room in the center of the expansive building with two arms extending out of either side. His victim would be somewhere in here—but the details could be figured out later.

The hunter dashed forward, stealing away the open terrain at an inhuman rate, simultaneously pulling his long rifle off his back with the ease that he had acquired since manufacturing the weapon.

Five guards. Two on the right, three on the left. The hunter knew innately that the loud crack from his rifle would set the whole facility on alert in a heartbeat—but he didn't need it to eliminate the poorly equipped guards. He silently stowed the heavy weapon onto his back, pulling out the smaller—but still as heavy as an assault rifle—handgun which he had come to favor as of late.

The hunter made his way to the left, knowing that eliminating three of his foes know would make the job easier as it proceeded. He silently noted the location of the vehicle bay at the far edge of the building.

The pieces were set. The hourglass was turned. The night exploded into action.

With his instinct and muscle memory guiding his movements, he lashed out with his pistol, the heavy sniper rounds from its barrel ringing out into the night as he took two of the soldiers with one bullets and swiftly took the third out before any of the guards could react. Shouts sounded from the opposite entrance—where the other guards would surely come rushing to examine their fallen comrades.

The hunter slinked into a darkened corner as he silently waited for a few moments before his next victims—predictably—stumbled around the corner and gasped at the sight of their fallen comrades.

They both died too.

The hunter silently refilled his pistol with the small pellets that he kept in a pocket on his left breast as he knelt down beside one of the guards, pulling a small card out of one of the men's pockets. Like he had the three times before this, he waved the card in front of the door and it slid open soundlessly.

The whole facility would be on alert—that much was undeniable. And, deep down inside, the hunter craved the challenge. To destroy your prey without giving it a chance to fight back defeated the purpose—it needed to fear, it needed to fight for its very life, and then it needed to die.

The hunter slowly walked through the barren hallways of the facility, the lights dim and his feet making barely a sound. He easily held his pistol in his right hand, scanning each of the rooms that he passed for any signs of life.

The facility must have been new—the only people here were a few guards and the people that needed to be here. The engineer must have been on duty constructing this encampment.

The hunter stepped out of the hallway and into the grand room he had seen from outside, with the giant glass domed roof, but the beauties of the stars above him held no meaning as long as his quarry still lived.

But nobody was here as well. The whole place was desolate, as if it had been abandoned. But the hunter had already seen the guards outside.

He quickly looked into an adjoining room, but the only thing that met him was a dim light hanging from the ceiling and a round table. He continued on his way down the next hallway, his eyes flitting from side to side as he scanned every inch around him.

The hunter's spine stiffened slightly as he passed through the doorway to the next hallway. Something was awry—that much had been evident, but taking the next few steps could be a fatal mistake. This encampment should have been populated—it shouldn't have been empty. They were never empty.

Without even thinking, the hunter spun around and extended his pistol and fired it behind him at the ever so slight scuffle that he had heard, his bullet landing home and striking one of five men who had the audacity to try and surprise him.

"Get him!" one of the men shouted, but his battle cry was quickly cut short as he caught a bullet to the throat. Each of the soldiers had their assault rifles ready at hand, but even in the miniscule period of time it took to point and shoot, the hunter had already disposed of three of the men.

The hunter dived to the side, catching a single bullet which slammed heavily into his hip, but the shields absorbing as much of the heavy projectile's energy as it could. As he rolled, another pair of bullets fired out and took the other two in the chest, sending them to the ground in a heap beside their friends.

The hunter spun around, the sound of footsteps loud in the hallway that he had been planning on going into. He lowered himself into a defensive crouch, quickly loading bullets into his pistol before the tide of enemies arrived.

The hunter had the innate advantage—the tight hallway would force them to come in twos, and he could simply pick them off as they arrived without a worry. The first few ran through the door, searching for their miniscule target in the dim light, but their fervor was quickly ended as blood poured from their chests.

A familiar black suit of armor pushed its way through the door, and in response, the hunter tossed his pistol into its holster and slid the long rifle off his back in one clean movement as he fired one of his heavy rounds right through the man's head, sending the titan falling backwards.

Another group of soldiers marched out of the room with the small table—how the hunter hadn't realized the possibility of a hidden chamber disappointed him as he turned his attention to the newcomers which threatened to trap him into the corner.

Firing bullets all the while, the hunter dashed back towards the hallway from where he had come, grimly sacrificing his chance at killing his desired prey at this moment. But his prey would wait—as long as he lived, there would be another day.

"Get 'im!"

The hunter stopped in his retreat and spun back around, sending another stream of bullets at his opponents as he searched for the source of the voice.

The hunter sighted his target, standing across the room along with the other soldiers that marched alongside him. It was him—his face hadn't changed in years.

The man wore a simple lightweight suit of armor—thin enough that the hunter could punch through it even with the pistol at his hip. But his instinct told him that one more shot would be risking far too much. Another of the soldiers, out of the corner of his eye, held a strange satchel in his hand.

The hunter whipped his pistol out of its holster, putting it at arms-length as he smiled wickedly as his target aligned himself in his sights.

The satchel flew through the air and landed on the ground, sliding towards him. The hunter tightened his fingers around the trigger.

And the hunter's shields burst as the satchel exploded, the heat and shrapnel shredding his right arm and side.

The hunter tried to pull the trigger on his pistol, but the effort was in vain as his hand would no longer listen to his commands. The pistol felt uselessly to the ground as the hunter spun and dashed away, back down the hallway that he should have followed when his instinct had told him to flee.

A hail of gunfire followed him down, the heavy bullets striking him in the stomach and leg, punching all the way through until they left out the other side, leaving shattered bones and bleeding tissues all through his body.

The hunter gritted his teeth as he embraced the crippling pain, understanding it as punishment for ignoring his instincts. The vehicle bay would be nearby—he could escape from there.

Running much faster than any of the soldiers who pursued him, even with his considerable injury, he arrived at the vehicle bay with only the sounds of marching and not bullets nipping at his heels. A lock was chained around the door—unexpectedly, as the hunter had planned on using the card he held in his hand to open the door.

He unslung the long rifle off his back—using his much less adept left hand—and aligned the end of the barrel to the lock, blowing it to pieces as he unravelled the chain and leapt through into the other side.

A shuttle. He could use the shuttle.

The hunter climbed into the shuttle at the opposite side of the room, simultaneously tapping on his omni-tool using the tattered remains of his right hand as he hacked the systems and overrode the securities on the vehicle and slipped in, jumping into the pilots seat and starting the vehicle up.

The hunter lifted the vehicle off the ground and turned it around, pointing towards the closed doors at the opposite end of the large room. Soldiers began to charge through the door, sending bullets skidding through the metal plating of the shuttle and leaving large cracks in the windshield.

The hunter turned the engines on as fast as they would go, dashing forward and crumbling the thin metal garage door without any resistance as he took to the skies.

The program on his omni-tool may have saved his life. It was ironic that the man the program came from was dead now.

The hunter leaned back in his seat, breathing heavily as he quickly typed into the coordinates for the Citadel. As he finished, he weakly lifted up his right arm, screaming in agony. A wide hole had been grazed right through, shattering the bones and splitting the tendons in his wrist and letting air through to the other side. Not to mention the wounds in his legs and stomach.

The hunter rummaged through a pocket as he found the medigel he had kept but never needed to use. With a shaking hand, he split it open and hastily poured it over his arm, barely stemming the flow of blood.

The dizziness came all at once, threatening to darken the hunter's eyes as he rapidly tried to stop the blood that poured from the multitude of wounds he carried and dripped onto the floor where it pooled at his feet. His vision flickered a few times more as he head drooped low, and he fell into the pool of his own blood as his eyes fell shut.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

As usual, special thanks to Azzorath!

Have to go now-see you later!


	29. Novam Vitam

**:: Chapter Twenty Nine :: **Novam Vitam **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_On the other shore I'll wait_

_With the hope of ever seeing_

_Your face once again._

_Whose strange silver eyes_

_Betray age and wisdom._

_Leaving the misfortunes of past lives_

_Pained smiles and dead eyes_

_On the other side I'll wait._

_-Alcest-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Shepard rolled over as he cast the warm sheets to the side, groaning as he put a hand on his forehead.

Perhaps he had drank a little too much. He had heard many a tale of the brutal hangover, but apparently you couldn't relate until you had one yourself.

Shepard slid his legs off the bed and stood up, slightly nauseated and with his head pounding. He yawned a few times as he walked over to his desk, pouring himself a glass of water—and hopefully not the clear alcohol he had drunk last night—and sipped from it as he slowly recovered from his splitting headache.

Shepard hadn't dreamed.

A wide smile began to grow across his face as the headache and pounding faded away with the sudden revelation.

Shepard hadn't dreamed.

Every single time Shepard had closed his eyes for the past year, he had seen bloody faces, he had heard accusing words, and he had watched everything around him dying. He had faced guilt, betrayal, adversity and chaos every time he laid to rest.

And Shepard hadn't dreamed.

He had escaped—the nagging urge to slice and to kill was gone, the guilt which had haunted him for so long like a blurry memory.

And Shepard laughed as he looked at his haggard reflection in the mirror. For once, those long ropy scars cutting across his brow didn't make him look like a monster. For once, his sharp face didn't look like a corpse's. And for once, he could look into his own eyes without cringing.

Shepard turned away from the mirror with the smile still on his face as he casually picked up another Alliance uniform out his almost-magically-replenishing supply, and swapped out his current, not-so-formal clothing for the more familiar uniform.

Just as yesterday, he quickly strapped on his pistol around his hip and the knife around his leg while he quietly whispered an old military tune from the back of his mind, straightening out his collar and uniform before he stepped out of the door.

"Morning, Kaidan, Garrus," Shepard said as he gave a salute to the two who were sitting down at the table of the mess hall, casually chatting with each other as they ate.

"You're looking well," Garrus said somewhat dryly. "And Kaidan told me that it was just him who could take his ale."

"I swear humans aren't immune," Kaidan said with a chuckle.

"Don't worry, I've got a headache too," Shepard said with a quiet laugh as he walked past them and towards the stairs.

"Shepard! Wait up!" Doctor Chakwas called out, leaning out of the door of the medbay as he stopped and spun back around.

"What is it?" Shepard asked.

"Come here," Chakwas firmly commanded. With a shrug to Kaidan and Garrus quietly observing from their table, he made his way into the room and close the door behind him.

"What do you need, Doctor?" Shepard asked.

"Let me see that left hand of yours."

Obediently, Shepard lifted up his casted left hand, holding it in the air as she gently grabbed onto his wrist.

"Try moving your fingers slowly."

Shepard began to flex his fingers, the stiff feeling appendages seemingly out of practice, but moving easily enough.

"Is that difficult?" Chakwas asked.

"Just a little stiff," Shepard replied.

"That's normal," Chakwas said with a pensive nod. "Any pain?"

"Nope."

"Then let's get it off."

Shepard's eyes widened slightly. "Already? I thought I was going to have this on for a few weeks at least."

"Maybe as a fashion statement," Chakwas said dryly. She turned around and reached into her cabinet and pulled out a small tube-shaped device, with which she placed the end onto his wrist and pressed onto a button. In a smooth movement not dissimilar to the way that Shepard would maneuver his blade to slice through a bandit's throat, Chakwas split the cast down the center and pulled it off, revealing the pale and blotchy skin underneath.

Shepard grimaced slightly at the reminder of what had almost been—what he had almost done.

But it was over now—last night had been proof enough of that.

"Might take a few weeks to _look_ normal," Chakwas said with a slight smirk. "As long as you get your hand moving again, it should be back to normal in a day or so."

"I'll work on it," Shepard said with a thankful nod to the doctor as he turned around, holding his wrist in his hand. Purple bruises ran the length of his wrist and the long, reddish-black scar along the center which had been sealed together by some miracle of medicine didn't feel as if it belonged to him—as if he weren't looking at his own hand, but rather somebody else's.

Maybe it was someone else's hand.

"Got the cast off, Shepard?" Kaidan said. Shepard glanced up at him, having forgotten that he was still there.

"Yeah," Shepard said with a small smile. "Can get back to hurting myself again."

Shepard made his way up the stairs with no particular purpose in mind. Maybe he'd head out and pick up some more miscellaneous supplies—he could always use a few more of those. Or maybe he'd check in with Anderson—as much as Shepard was enjoying his little bit of relaxation time, the itch to get out and do something useful was always omnipresent in the back of his mind.

Shepard headed forward to the front of the cabin, hitting the button to open the airlock.

"Hey, Shepard, you're awake," Joker said as he spun his chair around. "Anderson left a message."

"He did?" Shepard said. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"His orders," Joker said with a shrug. "Told me not to wake you up—said you needed the sleep." Shepard merely shrugged.

"So? What did he need?"

"Said to meet him at the embassies—he has a mission for you, or something like that."

Shepard nodded a few times as he slipped back into the airlock. Anderson had mentioned that he would be sending him word as soon as he found out what they needed to do to stop Saren—it would be good to get back on the case.

Shepard followed the same route had he grown accustomed to by this point, travelling through the less populated and more sketchy underbellies of the Citadel and back up to the surface where he made the transition from the Ward to the Presidium, leaving behind the tumultuous crowds and entering the land of the rich and important, where he would never quite feel at home. The posh and self-righteous crowd was never one that Shepard had ever found appealing—even back on Mindoir, he'd steered away from the families that lived on the top of the big hill with the motorized scooters and fancy vehicles.

Shepard blinked a few time as he wondered where that memory had blown in from. It certainly wasn't something he had recalled before, but there it was—clear as if it had only happened moments ago. Strange.

Without much more thought, he stepped up the stairs and knocked on the door to the human embassy, waiting a few moments before it slid open, revealing Anderson standing with a salute.

"Shepard, it's good to see you," Anderson said as he finished his salute and gestured to one of the chairs in the always-changing office.

Shepard saluted the man back with a smile as he walked over to one of the chairs and lowered himself down in it, keeping his back straight as he addressed the man.

"What's the plan, sir?" Shepard asked.

"You got some rest, son?" Anderson asked instead, as if he hadn't heard the question.

"I did," Shepard said with a curt nod.

"I heard that you were out for a day—what happened?"

"I had to take care of some business for my crew," Shepard said with a shrug and a slight frown. "Is… it a problem?"

"How are you feeling?" Anderson asked, his eyes searching.

"I'm good, Captain," Shepard said as he slowly nodded. "I'm really good."

Anderson seemed to relax a little as he scanned Shepard before a small smile appeared on his face.

"Good," Anderson said as he lowered himself into the opposite chair. "Then you're ready for what we've found out."

"What is it, sir?" Shepard asked.

"The information that I mentioned to you a few days ago—we've finalized the details and we've got a plan worked out. We spotted one of Saren's liutenants—an asari named Matriarch Benezia—who has a lab rented out on Noveria.

"Noveria?" Shepard asked.

"It's an out of the way planet, but it's not under Council jurisdiction," Anderson explained. "They're notorious for less-than-legitimate dealings and controversial research. They rent out their labs to people who can't carry out experiments in Council territory without being arrested." Anderson paused for a moment. "And that's why we're worried."

"What makes this incident special?" Shepard asked.

"Because of who's involved," Anderson said with a shrug. "We've been using Tali's data extensively—without it, we would have fallen weeks ago. But with the data she found, there was a key list of some of Saren's top liutenants. And all but three of them have been confirmed dead."

"So you want me to stop Benezia?" Shepard asked, seeing where he was going.

"Not exactly," Anderson said. "That's secondary—we need to find out what Saren's planning. This whole time, he's been attacking the Alliance—but it simply doesn't make sense. Why would he just attack the Alliance? What is there for him to gain?"

"Vengeance?" Shepard said.

"Vengeance?" Anderson said as he gave Shepard a curious look. "How would you know?"

"Just a thought," Shepard said with a shake of his head.

"He lost a brother in the First Contact War," Anderson said, his gaze distant. "But that was so long ago."

Anderson was silent for a few moments before he shook his head. "But that's what I want you to find out."

"So…" Shepard said, putting a hand on his chin. "Go to Noveria, find Benezia, and find out what Saren's plans and motivations?"

"That's the barebones of it," Anderson said as he leaned back in his chair. "But I doubt that things will be that easy." Anderson paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Because of Noveria's spotty record, they're not on fair terms with the Alliance or the Council—and I'm one to believe that they wouldn't hesitate shooting you out of the sky if you tried to dock."

"They can get away with that?" Shepard said incredulously.

"We can't act again them without sparking bigger conflict," Anderson said helplessly. "They've got high friends in high places—friends who could turn the whole of the Terminus systems against us, as if the geth weren't bad enough."

"So how are we going to get in?"

"There's no way to land without them detecting you, even with the Normandy's stealth drives, so you'll need to go in disguise. While you're on Noveria, you'll be the leader of the Blackwater Mercenary Band—looking for potential employers on Noveria."

"They'll believe that?"

"It's not an uncommon story," Anderson said with a nod. "Illicit businessmen need illicit protection—they should buy it."

"What about the Normandy? It's an Alliance ship," Shepard said, wondering how exactly all the pieces would be falling into place.

"It's not a well-known Alliance ship," Anderson said. "It's a prototype design that's been kept on the down-low. The only people who know about it are the Council and the Alliance."

"And news reporters," Shepard said sarcastically, remembering his conflict with the nosy woman last night.

"They won't know," Anderson assured him. "They likely won't even look at you twice."

Shepard nodded quietly. "Where is Benezia?"

"_That_ we don't know," Anderson said. "You'll have to find out once you get there—you can probably find some kind of records."

Shepard nodded a few times.

"Be careful," Anderson warned. "We don't know if she'll try to escape as soon as she learns that you're after her. We can't lose this opportunity."

Shepard nodded a few times as he stood up in his chair, stretching his legs. "I won't fail you, sir."

"One more thing," Anderson added as he also stood up. "When we first learned of Benezia, we sent you after her daughter—Liara T'Soni."

Shepard frowned slightly at the mention of her name. He hadn't been proud of their last meeting.

"We've had her with us for the past few weeks, and we've determined that she's innocent of the crimes that her mother has committed," Anderson began to say. Shepard could already see where he was going with his line of thought.

"I want you to take her with you and see if she can't convince Benezia to leave Saren's side."

"Will… will that even work?" Shepard asked, skeptical of the effectiveness of that plan.

"That's secondary, too," Anderson said with a shrug. "If it works, then we'll have a valuable ally in our battle."

"Are you sure T'Soni can be trusted?" Shepard asked. "There were geth where we found her."

"She was being _attacked_ by geth," Anderson corrected. "They wouldn't attack her if they were working with her."

Shepard shook his head slowly. As much as the logic made sense, he didn't want to bring her along. After a few moments, he sighed and shook his head resignedly.

"Alright," Shepard said. "I'll take her."

"Then it's settled," Anderson said with a smile. "Contact me once you've carried out the mission."

Anderson walked him over to the door as he stepped out.

"And take care of yourself, son," Anderson said with a warm smile as the door slid shut, leaving Shepard alone on the same doorstep that he had been on a few days ago.

Shepard made his way down the stairs and headed back towards where he came from, but unlike the last time he left the embassies, this time he had a little bit of a skip in his step.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Tali sat down in the mess hall—which she had quickly found was where most everyone on the ship seemed to spend their spare hours—hunched over top of her Alliance-brand shotgun, with a weapons kit sitting beside it. Along the bench sat another crew member—a flight technician named Johnson—and another, more silent and grim looking man who was part of the weapons maintenance engineering staff, who she had seen around the weapons battery a couple of times before.

The two of them casually chatted back and forth, idly debating about some facet of whether better guns or more effective maneuvering was a better tactic during interstellar battle, though it wasn't necessarily Tali's forte—the details were more to her liking. While she could probably fly a ship—and probably crash it just as easily—and while she could fire a cannon, they were skills that she would leave to prodigies like Joker.

Every so often, she would toss a comment over in their discussion arguing one way or the other, but for the most part, she was absorbed into the task of fitting the extended dispersion mesh and the electrical attachment which would fit onto the front of the barrel like a bayonet.

Weapons engineering wasn't a familiar field for Tali either—though it seemed fairly straightforward and would prove to be invaluable if she could master it. She had considered perhaps asking Garrus or Wrex, since she had seen both of them in the back corner of the armory with some kind of weapon split into so many pieces it was no longer recognizable, but Garrus had seemed much more reserved and introverted as of late, whereas Wrex was simply Wrex.

But perseverance was a valuable trait—at least that's what Tali told herself while she tried—for at least the ninth or eleventh time—to roll up the heat dispersion mesh to the right size, fitting it into the barrel, and then trying to tease it out just the right amount to facilitate the highest efficiency of heat dispersal while avoiding a catastrophic "explosion" of metal heat dispersion mesh springing out of the shotgun and into the air—like it had already done eight or ten times.

The door to Shepard's cabin—which was, admittedly, one of the reasons why this spot in the mess hall had recently become accessible to her—slid open and the soldier stepped out, speaking into his omni-tool.

"—in place?" Shepard said as he briskly walked out the room. Tali nodded slightly to him as he walked past.

"I'll be there in a minute," Shepard said as he stopped behind Tali and put his omni-tool back down.

"Something wrong?" Tali asked Shepard.

"Kaidan just wants me to quickly check in with Liara," Shepard said with a grimace and a shrug.

"Is that bad?" Tali asked innocuously, wondering why a grimace adorned his face.

Shepard merely shrugged again as he slowly shook his head. "We didn't get off on… the right foot," Shepard said—a barely comprehensible expression to Tali, but she got the gist of what he was saying.

Tali merely nodded silently. Shepard gave her a salute and a slight smile as he turned around and slipped around the corner.

"Commander never talks to anyone," the grim engineer said from across the table—not to anybody in particular.

"Said hello to me yesterday," Johnson said with a shrug. "First time."

"Maybe he got a promotion or something."

"We don't get any damn promotion," Johnson grumbled—though from what Tali could tell, the man was more bluster than bite.

Tali snapped her shotgun back into place with a victorious chuckle, the heatsink fitting in place perfectly.

"Got it," Tali said with a grin.

"You do know I could have done that for you," the grim engineer from across the table said.

Tali raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"Fun to watch you launch heatsinks into the ceiling," the grim man said with a rare smile.

"Bosh'tet," Tali muttered under her breath as she shook her head in exasperation.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard gently tugged onto his new piece of silvery, gleaming armor, adjusting it to fit evenly across his shoulders. On his chest shone the stark black crossed rifles of the "Blackwater" mercenary band—a ruse which would hopefully allow them easy access into Noveria. Luckily for Shepard, his new armor had arrived insignia-free—likely as a result of Oswald's slightly less than legitimate suppliers—and he had little work to do in adding the logo. As for someone like Kaidan—who proudly took care of his suit of armor which was labelled with the Alliance logo on nearly every piece—he would need to take much longer in stripping away the Alliance logo and putting on new, Blackwater logos.

With a final adjustment in the mirror, Shepard turned around and strode out the door, tapping on his omni-tool while he exited. They would be at Noveria soon—the trip had been fairly short, only around six and a half hours, but once they touched down, they would need to get back into action quickly.

"Don't get too crazy," Doctor Chakwas said while she leaned against the wall outside of the medbay.

Shepard rolled his eyes as he nodded his agreement. "I'll try not to," he said unconvincingly.

"I know you soldier-types always like getting hurt—maybe you think the scars are attractive, or something," Chakwas said with a chuckle. "But keep in mind you're not supposed to lose a gallon of blood every time someone looks at you funny."

"I'll try not to," Shepard said again with a chuckle. With another nod, he continued on his way.

"You've got your medigel?" Chakwas interrupted.

"Yes," Shepard replied, glancing back at her.

"And your painkillers?"

"Yes."

"And the monochromide tablets?"

Shepard gave her a strange look. "What?"

"Kidding," Chakwas said with a smirk. "Take care, Shepard."

With a slight salute, Shepard continued on, making his way up the stairs and across the main deck of the Normandy as he approached Joker sitting in his pilot's chair—as usual.

"Don't you ever take a break?" Shepard asked as he sat down in the co-pilot's chair beside him.

"Not now," Joker said incredulously. "ETA to Noveria is six minutes."

Shepard easily leaned back in the comfortable chair, looking out the window into the blur of space and lights. Joker's window never looked quite the same—every time, the blackness of space contrasting with the points of light which dashed across his field of view seemed to make a different, majestic pattern.

"Pretty comfy chairs, though," Joker said with a sidelong glance at him.

"I wonder how you don't fall asleep for half the day," Shepard said with a chuckle.

Joker raised an eyebrow as he shuffled backwards a little bit, stiffening his spine. "Lots of concentration."

Shepard quietly chucked as he shook a hand dismissively. "Call up the ground team."

Joker nodded and tapped on a terminal in front of him a few times. "So, Kaidan, Tali, Garrus, Ashley, and the krogan?"

"And Liara," Shepard added—slightly reluctantly.

She had quickly disappeared within one of the remodeled cargo bays down on the second floor, and Shepard hadn't seen her since Kaidan had gotten him to quickly confirm that the proper security systems in place. All the while, she had kept her gaze respectfully to the floor, avoiding even glancing up at Shepard with her blue eyes.

Perhaps what bothered Shepard more than his less-than-kind treatment was the fact that she was a reminder of what he had begun to turn into—a creature incapable of thought or emotion, only murder and hatred.

"Hey, Shepard," Kaidan said, leaning on the back of Shepard's chair.

Shepard glanced up at Kaidan, noticing that rather than his typical navy blue suit of thick combat armor, he wore a thinner suit of grey armor with more of the bullet-resistant fabric in between the ceramic plates rather than flexible or linked up pieces of metal chain. Apparently, he hadn't felt like messing up his current suit of armor.

"New armor?" Shepard asked.

"Picked it up before we took off," Kaidan said. "Thought it would work better."

Shepard nodded a few times.

"So," Kaidan said expectantly. "What's the plan?"

"Find Benezia," Shepard said. "We'll need to get access to some kind of records once we touch down."

They remained in silence for a couple of minutes until the rest of his companions began to trickle in, one by one. Wrex showed up first—since apparently he had nothing to do on the ship anyways, with his massive shotgun clipped onto his hip as usual and his red-colored armor protecting him. Ashley showed up next, giving Shepard a curt nod as she leaned against the wall, her usual assortment of assault rifles and pistols across her back and hips.

Garrus and Liara both entered together, quietly chatting with each other as they walked towards the front of the ship. Garrus was, as usual, carrying the long sniper rifle on his back, but Liara's choice of equipment was slightly more curious. She only carried a pistol on her hip—though her biotics would likely compensate for her reduced firepower—but most curious was the grey-ish colored uniform that she wore, which looked woefully under protective.

In any case, she likely wouldn't be in the brunt of combat—she would be towards the back lines, providing support where it was needed.

As she approached, she cast her gaze down to the ground, noticing Shepard's searching eyes, stepping past him and hiding behind Wrex's more massive bulk.

But where was Tali? It was strange—typically she had been one to make her way up to the airlock before anyone else. Shepard frowned slightly. As much as he had enjoyed the night out on the Citadel, it was tough to justify that considering recent events. A slight pang of guilt rang through Shepard, both for the things he had done and then trying to act as if nothing had even happened.

Shepard glanced down the hallway, looking for Tali's familiar purple frame as he worried that perhaps he had misjudged her actions on the Citadel. Perhaps she had only been polite? Perhaps he had been reading too far into her movements and her speech, believing that he had seen something which was not truly there? Maybe, he, in fact, had actually been—

"Incoming transmission from Noveria," Joker said as everybody looked over at him. With a few taps, a holographic screen popped up, displaying a woman's pale face with blond locks resting easily beside her head.

"Identify your ship—all trespassers will be shot down without further warning."

"Jeez, these guys are pushy," Joker said as he shot a smirk back at his audience.

"This is the pilot of the Normandy," Joker said, putting on a slightly gruffer voice as he spoke through the microphone. "We're looking to find business on Noveria."

"What kind of business?" came the woman's response.

"Mercenary work," Shepard interrupted, putting on a similarly gruff voice.

"State your organization and affiliation," the woman demanded.

"Blackwater Mercenary Company," Shepard said easily. "Affiliated with anyone who has the coin to pay us."

The woman on the screen sneered slightly as she looked down. "Cleared to dock. Head to dock Echo Seventeen on Port Hanshan."

The screen disappeared as Joker shot another wry smile back at the assembled crew. "Real nice welcome wagon they sent us."

"As long as we get in," Shepard said with a shrug.

Shepard glanced back down the hallway again, hoping beyond reason that perhaps Tali's figure would appear up those steps, eyes filled with life and enthusiasm. He stood in silence along with the rest of the crew for a few minutes as Joker navigated the Normandy through the icy winds and into a shielded dome of sorts which contained a set of the large magnets which were common for holding onto ships on the Citadel. With a couple of shakes and jitters, the Normandy made its way into the loading dock as the two magnets clasped down on the sides of the metal frame, sending vibrations through the hull. The interior airlock door slid open, and Wrex, Ashley and Kaidan funneled in, filling the entire airlock with help from Wrex's massive frame.

Shepard leaned back against the wall beside Garrus, waiting for the airlock to clear and open up again before they entered.

"You're late!" Garrus shouted out past him down the Normandy. Shepard turned his head to Tali, who was jogging down past the galaxy map with her shotgun held casually in her hands.

"Sorry," Tali said with a shake of her head. "This darn thing wouldn't fit back together," she said as she shook the shotgun in her hands.

"New heatsink?" Garrus asked as he looked at it curiously. "I could have helped with it."

"Didn't need it," Tali said with a shrug. "But the darn rails wouldn't fit back on properly."

"Were they backwards?" Garrus asked with the hint of a smile on his face.

"Uhm… maybe," Tali said, rolling the shotgun awkwardly in her hands.

Garrus chuckled quietly as he shook his head. "Rookie."

"Be quiet," Tali said. "You couldn't even find the transformation power modulators if you tried."

"Not like any normal person would ever need to."

"Be quiet," Tali said again with a chuckle.

All the while, Shepard watched Tali out of the corner of his eye, watching the way that she nervously shifted her weight from side to side, and the slight unease in her shoulders. Shepard opened his mouth to ask if something was wrong, but quickly shut his mouth as he pushed the question out of his mind. Maybe he was looking too far into things.

The airlock door slid open with a whoosh as the three of them funneled in with a final farewell from Joker, lining up as they waited for the decontamination beam to pass over them. With some slight pleasure—or was it dismay?—Shepard noticed that Tali didn't have the knife strapped to her leg like she had before, only the shotgun which she had clipped onto her hip.

As the exterior door slid open, Kaidan and Ashley stood at the forefront of the walkway around their ship, addressing what looked to be like the same woman that they spoke to while they were approaching Noveria.

"…the captain's duty, not mine," Shepard caught Kaidan saying. As he finished, he turned around and gave Shepard a curt nod.

"Captain…" the woman in blonde hair said as she approached Shepard.

"Belial," Shepard said without much thought to the name, instead focusing on the grungy inflections that he hoped would make him sound more intimidating. The woman raised an eyebrow as she regarded him— he was coated in scars, with the rough beginnings of a beard around his chin.

"Captain Belial," the woman said with disdain evident in her voice. "What is the purpose of your visit to Noveria?"

"Looking for anyone who might need a little bit of extra security," Shepard said coolly.

The woman nodded a few times. "While you are in Port Hanshan, you are under watch at all times. If you make any threatening actions or statements, you will be disposed of with impunity. Abide by our rules, or we will not hesitate to put you down."

"And we will not hesitate to defend ourselves," Shepard said as he stared at the woman coldly.

The woman raised an eyebrow as she spun on a heel and marched away from them, heading towards a small metal shack at the end of the gangway. With a quick glance at his companions, Shepard followed her.

As Shepard stepped beyond the boundaries of the metal shack, the same woman suddenly reappeared, bolstered by another two women, each holding an assault rifle pointed towards Shepard's chest.

Without any thought, Shepard's hand instinctively shot to his back and brought his shotgun to bear in blurring motion that nearly set one of the guard's rifles into action, were it not for the quick hand raised by the woman in blonde to indicate to them to hold fire.

"What the hell is going on?" Shepard said in a deep, threatening voice. Already his companions had gathered beside him—their weapons similarly out and ready. Shepard knew that as soon as he gave the signal, the meager guards before him wouldn't stand a chance. His shields would hold against their combined assault for a few precious seconds—seconds which would give his squad a chance to their through their shields and armor without any difficulty.

"No weapons inside Port Hanshan," the woman in blonde said again, this time with a threatening undertone which emphasized the rifle in her hands.

"This is my business," Shepard said as he narrowed his eyes. "What kind of mercenary doesn't have a gun?"

"One that's alive," the woman said, her hand noticeably tightening around her trigger.

Shepard glanced back at his crew for a moment, each with their weapons in hand and trained on the guards who stood before them. They outnumbered them two to one—and certainly were better trained. They could have torn through them in a moment if they willed it.

"We'll kill you all before you can even fire twice," Shepard said ominously. The slightly terrified—but admirably firm—expression that one of the guards in back held showed that Shepard wasn't the only one with thoughts of destruction in mind.

"And then you'll all die when the ERCS reserve gets here," the blond woman said, her expression unwavering.

Shepard glanced back at his squad again, carefully judging his options. Whether she was bluffing or not, whether he was capable of killing everyone in this port, they had a specific mission—to get to Benezia without alerting her of their presence. Murdering everybody as soon as they arrived probably wasn't a great idea.

Shepard lowered his shotgun, putting a hand out to the side to indicate to his companions to do the same, all the while watching the blonde woman with narrowed eyes.

"Kaidan, take the weapons back to the Normandy," Shepard said coldly as he handed his shotgun back to the man, who paused for a few moments, likely equally reluctant to simply give up the familiar weapons which he carried, but conceding after a few moments to Shepard's judgement.

"The knife, too," the woman said brusquely. Shepard cast her another deadly glare—he would give up the knife, too. Perhaps in her chest.

Shepard reluctantly—more because he was submitting to the woman—gave his knife to Kaidan, who had gathered up the heavy pile of weapons in his hands and was walking back towards the Normandy.

It was alright—they could manage inside of the port. Once they figured out where Benezia was stationed, they could return to the Normandy and pick their weapons back up. In the meanwhile, they were far from defenseless. Shepard might have become accustomed to his blade, but his close-quarters combat had dealt with a considerable amount of weaponless self-defence—or as he styled it, weaponless offense.

Not to mention that he had two biotics, a hardened soldier, a krogan, a capable turian, and an engineer along with him. They would be fine.

All their physical weapons now gone, Shepard stepped forward past the three guards, still feeling naked without the familiar weight of his shotgun hanging easily at his hip.

"Good man, Belial. Play nice," the blonde woman taunted.

Shepard shot a withering stare at the woman—one he was sure that told her beyond a doubt that the only reason he hadn't killed her on the spot was because he had better things to worry about.

The rest of the crew stepped past, Kaidan quickly rejoining them after a few moments once he had dumped their weapons back on the Normandy. Ashley and Garrus both appeared slightly nervous—perhaps not without reason, as they didn't have technology or biotics to fall back on to like everyone else did.

"Greetings," a woman dressed in a tight pink suit said as they stepped through the metal shack and into a slightly more decorated chamber with a large metal rectangle standing up in the middle. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at Shepard, but then she replaced it with a warm smile.

"Gianni Parasini," the woman said, gesturing for Shepard to step through the weapons detector. With a slight nod, he did so, and the system lit up green for a moment before beeping it's affirmation.

"I apologize for the strict policies—we've had no end of trouble in recent days."

"What kind of trouble?" Shepard asked, hoping to maybe squeeze some information from her.

"None that I should talk about publicly," Gianni said with a slight smirk.

"I was hoping to pull a profit," Shepard said, slipping back into the guise of a mercenary. "Lookin' for work around here—thought that you might know a good place."

"Perhaps check in with Lultin—he has a history of dealing with mercenaries. Good luck, Commander."

"Captain," Shepard corrected with a suspicious look.

"Of course, Captain," Gianni said with a low bow.

The rest of Shepard's squad stepped through without any further troubles, easily passing through just as Shepard had. They went up the staircase into another room—a large room with a glass ceiling which proudly displayed the raging snowstorm above them.

"Looked like it was going to be a bloodbath," Garrus said casually.

"Could have used the excitement," Wrex said with a bored expression on his face.

"We can't risk drawing too much attention to ourselves," Shepard warned.

Ashley snorted from beside him. "Shepard—a krogan, a turian, three humans, an asari and a quarian walk into a bar."

Shepard couldn't help but chuckle at the statement—fate really had led him into a strange set of circumstances.

"Either way," Shepard said, having a hand in the air. "We're going to need to find some way to get access to sale records—Anderson told me that all he knew was that Benezia had purchased a lab on Noveria. It's up to us to find out which one."

"Maybe we could get someone to check for us," Kaidan offered with a shrug.

"That wouldn't work," Garrus said instantly. "What if the person was working for her? Then we'd lose her before we even got away from here."

"What about if I hack a store terminal?" Tali asked, her quiet but firm voice ringing out.

"Would that even work?" Ashley said as she frowned at Tali. "Unless we went to the store that rents out labs—if that exists."

"I can access the mainframe," Tali began to explain, unfazed by Ashley's concern. "All terminals have to report their sales back to a central computer so that they can be taxed appropriately—at least, that's how it usually works."

"I never knew that," Kaidan said with a slight chuckle.

"She's right," Garrus said. "I've been sent out a couple times to take in shopkeepers who try to hide their sales."

"And if I can get a path through a market terminal to the mainframe, I should be able to get access to all sale records," Tali said.

"And from there, we find Benezia," Shepard finished with a smile. She had changed in a few short weeks—from the upset, crying girl who they had found on death's row in some back alley of the Citadel, to the confident, and certainly intelligent young woman who they wouldn't be able to carry on without.

"You know how to hack into a market terminal?" Garrus said somewhat curiously.

"I haven't before," Tali said firmly, giving Garrus a slight glare, "But I'm sure they're not any harder to crack than a geth."

Garrus merely shrugged, backing away slightly at the hidden hostility in her words. "No offense," he meekly added.

"Then we need a store," Shepard said with a nod. "Let's move out."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

This week, I'm sending out a call to arms. I'm looking for a pair of beta readers who meet the following conditions:

- Have a strong grasp of the English language

...Pretty much. As of late, I've been far busier than I was when I started writing this, so I haven't had the opportunity to proofread most of my work before publishing it. As a result, I'd like to have a couple of people (READ: TWO) who I'll provide a chapter in advance to edit. Just send me a private message or leave a review, and I'll get back to you.

But, before you ask to be a beta reader, know this; reading while looking for errors isn't as fun. It's something I've noticed myself, and if you're enjoying my story thus far (somehow), looking for flaws might take some of the fun out of it. I don't think there are a large number of flaws, but nevertheless, I'd like what I write to be ironed out as much as possible. So, accept the position knowing that reading might become more of a chore and less of a relaxation activity (though I'm flexible with editing and uploading). Once again, more details will be provided at a later point and I'll elaborate even further than my current state of rambling craziness.

Now that the business is out of the way... I have nothing much else to say. I, of course, want to give special thanks to reviewers who make me feel happy and whatnot, as well as Azzorath for being a great reviewer/person overall, but I don't want to get too repetitive with my inane comments. Regardless-I shall thank them despite it all!

I'll stop my blubbering for now. I'll see you guys again real soon!

-Zalgroth


	30. To Fall

**:: Chapter Thirty :: **To Fall **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_The lurking punishment_

_With blood he did reveal_

_Death_

_And through the ages run_

_A river deep and red_

_The ever present heirs_

_For whom there is no rest._

_-Ihsahn-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Kethrel took a deep breath, tightly grasping onto the rifle placed into his lap for security as he waited for the shuttle to stop its jittering and jerking to come to a halt.

"What's the matter, boy?" a scummy looking batarian with a reddish-orange faced, and a thick suit of matching armor said from the opposite side of the shuttle. "Getting a little queasy already?"

Kethrel shook his head slightly. He hadn't had much experience with anything beyond the humans of Cain until the last couple weeks, but he was ready to return home by all means. The batarians smelled and were all rough and impolite, the few turians all lifted their chins high into the air as they strode past him, not even giving him the satisfaction of recognition, and the old asari who he had seen before hadn't even registered his existence. Perhaps that was the reason that the Alliance had been so tight fisted with its policies—maybe they were being influenced by far more than presidents and admirals. If the aliens had a hand in their pot as well…

"One minute!" the batarian sitting in the driver's seat shouted back at them, his repressed anticipation seeping through the words.

One of the batarians sitting beside him cheered gutturally, beating a gauntleted hand on his lap.

"You brought the cannon?" one of the batarians asked.

"Sure as hell I did," the orange-faced batarian said with a wide grin. He nodded towards the back of the shuttle, where a pile of metal boxes were stacked up. "It's in one of those things."

"Run 'er up and blow up some humans!"

"Wait 'till I land the damn thing!" the pilot shouted back at them.

A few moments passed before their shuttle—none too gently—slammed down on the ground, jolting Kethrel out of his seat and into the lap of the orange-faced batarian sitting across from him, who growled and shoved him back into his own chair.

"Let's get fighting!" the pilot shouted, pulling a pair of long rifles from somewhere beside his chair, holding one in each hand as he howled and dashed out of the vehicle, the other batarians matching his battle cry as they haphazardly grabbed onto the crates and tossed them out of the vehicle, crashing heavily into the ground.

The sound of gunfire and explosions met Kethrel, but it had taken a moment for him to even realize it through the batarian's shouts and screams.

Kethrel stepped out of the shuttle, the scent of smoke and fire stinging his nose as it blended with the cleaner scents of the air that blew through the darkened skies. The planet looked quite similar to the old tableaus of Earth, as a matter of fact—off in the distance, there were a few low foothills with mountains towering over those, their snow-covered peaks off in the distance putting Kethrel into enough awe to stop him in his tracks for a moment. He had never been able to truly see such a thing of natural beauty—and he had believed he never would—and to see it now…

"Come on, laddie!" one of the batarians shouted. "Help us set this thing up!"

Kethrel turned his attention back to the batarians, who were nearly jumping with joy as they unpacked a bunch of the boxes, pulling out metal rods and tubes and other strange pieces that he didn't recognize. Like clockwork, they began tossing the pieces together with loud clangs and shouts.

Off in the distance, the burning city of New Canton glimmered in the darkness.

It hadn't fallen yet, though. The scourge of the Alliance wouldn't stop until they had been grinded down under the heel of those who truly cared—Cain.

Geth had been dropped into the city for the last hour, their solid metal bodies giving them the ability to be tossed out of a shuttle flying overhead and landing down on the ground without and harm. It was certainly a force to be reckoned with, and one he feared if the geth were to ever turn upon him.

Every thirty seconds or so, an explosion would rock the ground, the shudders even reaching them from their distance away from the walled city. A platoon of vehicles with long cannons mounted on the top sat off a mile away, idly waiting by until the outer walls of the grand city could be breached for them to wreak havoc.

"Hold on tight!"

Kethrel glanced back at the batarians, who had continued on constructing the weapon without Kethrel's help as he observed the waves of smoke pouring out of the buildings and the flicker of lights and weapons fire from inside the walls. The five batarians each grabbed onto a handle of the massive tube which was being held in the air by a pair of flimsy looking legs.

"Light 'er up!"

One of the batarians slammed his hand onto a red button placed at the back of the cannon, resuming his tight grasp on the barrel as he pragmatically placed himself to the side of the weapon. After a moment, a deafening crack shot through Kethrel's ears, sending pain splitting through his head—and also sending a twenty-pound nuclear warhead flying at a few hundred meters per second.

A split second after the loud launch, a bright flash took away his vision as well as the warhead detonated against the solid steel walls, the force of the blast knocking Kethrel off his feet, and throwing the batarians—who were lying on the ground beside the tube—rolling backwards.

There was silence for a few moments other than the continued sounds of gunfire, until one of the batarians jumped up to his feet and screamed victoriously.

As the clouds of dust and smoke rolled away from the massive, one-hundred-meter across hole which had been torn in the thick metal walls, smoldering embers and a massive crater left in its wake, the platoon of vehicles began to drive.

The fall of New Canton had begun.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"How about that store?" Kaidan said, pointing towards one of the many drab looking storefronts with a grey-text logo stating "Vidrazzo Brothers Wares".

Shepard glanced over at Tali, who merely shrugged. "It should work," Tali said. "Really, any terminal should work."

"Then let's go," Ashley said. "I don't know about you guys, but I'd like to get my rifle back sometime soon."

"Wait," Tali said, extending a hand. "We can't all go in at once—they'll know that something's up."

Shepard merely shrugged. "Alright, then—Tali, you go in with Kaidan. If you need backup, I'll come in, and then if things get really ugly, the whole gang can join us."

Tali slowly nodded a few times. "Alright," she said as she turned around and slipped through the double doors of the shop.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The interior of the shop was much more luxurious than the outside was—the inside was filled with blue colored carpets and had a variety of plants growing in metal containers spread out through the building. All across the walls were a variety of things—some rifles, a few pieces of combat armor, a few tubes of unknown materials, and a bunch of other miscellaneous things like omni-tools and shield generators.

"Which one do we use?" Kaidan asked to Tali as she surveyed the room. There were four different terminals, symmetrically placed with two in the front and two in the back. With a shrug, Tali gestured towards one of the terminals at the back of the room.

"That one should work," Tali stated. Really, it shouldn't have made a difference—as long as all of the terminals linked back to the mainframe, it would be simple to get access to the records.

Tali pulled a small metal clasp out of one of the pockets in her suit, holding it tightly in her hand as she slowly made her way over to the back terminal, trying to appear as innocuous as possible. Already she could see that the two turians who were standing at the back counter—one dark red, and the other a greyish shade of red—were casting odd glances at Tali, similarly attempting to be inconspicuous, but failing.

"Those turians are looking at me funny," Tali whispered into her communicator as she innocently examined one of the pistols hanging on the wall.

Kaidan headed deeper into the store, closer to the stall at the back of the room where he approached one of the walls which was adorned with more ornate weapons and rifles.

"I thought weapons weren't allowed in Port Hanshan?" Kaidan idly asked the turians, to which they both slowly made their way over to their customer.

"These are only replicas," the dark red turian began to explain.

"We have the real weapons stored off site in a warehouse," the lighter turian continued. "After you place an order, we ship them out from our facility, and then we…"

Satisfied that Kaidan had managed to detract their attention—at least momentarily, Tali quickly made her way back to the terminal in the corner of the room and activated it. Next, she would need a physical connection—the small clasp would wirelessly connect to her omni-tool, and from there, she could plant the hidden trojan where it would travel to the mainframe.

"Just a moment, I'm going to see if our other customer needs help," the lighter colored turian politely said as he disengaged from Kaidan.

"Wait a second," Kaidan said as he tried to stop the turian.

"I can help you, sir," the darker red turian said as he stepped in front of him, blocking him from moving to stop the other turian.

"The shopkeeper is trying to talk to me," Tali muttered into her omni-tool, hoping that perhaps Shepard would find some way to distract him.

"Is there something you need?" the lighter colored turian said as he approached Tali, the respect and politeness that was in his voice suddenly vanishing as he regarded the quarian in front of him.

"I'm just looking for potential purchases," Tali said firmly, not pleased by the way he had decided to treat her differently than Kaidan. "I don't need your help."

"I insist," the turian said, barely hiding his derision.

"The Vidrazzo Brothers!" Shepard shouted as he burst through the doors of the shop. "The finest purveyor of goods on Port Hanshan, no?"

The lighter colored turian glanced back at Tali for a moment before he directed his slightly suspicious attention to Shepard.

"What do you need?" the turian asked him.

"Good, I'll need your help—I plan on making many purchases today," Shepard said as he waved a credit chit tantalizingly in the air. "Come here, I'll tell you what I need—I'm going to need a new set of weaponry, make sure you get me the standard works—you know, the works? Extended magazines, better thermal dissipaters, you know—all of that stuff? Come on!"

The turian glanced back at Tali for another moment before he detached and chased after Shepard, who was nearly skipping his way to the front of the shop as he waved his arms out wide.

With the moment of privacy earned, Tali wasted no time in quickly slipping the lightly-fastened side panel of the machine away and snapping her bug into the terminal before closing it up again. She tapped on her omni-tool a few times, quickly engaging the virus before she leaned forward over the terminal and browsed through their collection for a moment.

"Shepard, I'm going to buy you an issue of Conatix Weekly," Tali said as she smiled to herself. She knew he was too busy fabricating some extensive list of purchases to respond, but she could already imagine the incredulous look she would receive. But she needed a purchase to hide the virus in, after all.

As the request was carried through and confirmed, both of the turians suddenly stiffened as if they had been wired together by some sort of invisible mechanism. Both of them extended apologetic hands and walked towards Tali, closely tailed by the two soldiers.

"Put your hands in the air," the darker turian said threateningly. Tali glanced at the bristling man momentarily, but paid his demand no heed.

"Get a move on, _quarian_," the lighter colored turian spat.

"I'm just leaving now," Tali said as she turned around and began to make her way towards the door.

"Hands in the air, thief," the lighter turian said again, shoving what felt to be dangerously similar to a pistol in between her shoulders.

Tali stopped for a moment, aware that a bullet fired at her from that distance would still cause severe damage to her suit.

"Don't call me that."

In a swift movement, Tali dropped down to the ground, swinging her feet underneath the two turians and throwing them to the ground similarly. Continuing through with her spin, she pushed herself off the ground using her hands and lowered herself in the same stance that she had shown Shepard when he had invited her to his room.

Shepard and Kaidan both jumped forward, but the darker colored turian had quickly risen back to his feet, holding his pistol in the air and pointing it alternatively between Kaidan and Shepard.

Without the slightest hesitation, Shepard stepped forward and took the bullet into his chest before he knocked the weapon aside with a backhanded blow and shoved his knee into the turian's groin before slamming a heavy handed first into the side of his head, knocking him onto the ground with a loud thump.

While Shepard was busy showing the turian why he shouldn't have gone to work today, the other had quickly risen to his feet similarly and had his pistol into the air. Tali dashed forward, mimicking Shepard's bull rush and also taking a bullet in the chest, ignoring the sudden shortness of breath and the flowering of pain across her ribs.

Tali feigned a punch towards the turian's face, and he ducked down low to avoid the blow that was never coming. Instead, one of Tali's nimble legs came swinging past him again, sending him sprawling to the ground and sending his pistol flying away from him as Tali, barely conscious of the specific maneuvers she was taking, kicked the turian in the head, sending him sliding a few feet across the floor.

Relaxing slightly as she realized the eerie quiet in the room, she stood up straight and cleared her throat as Kaidan watched her with a bewildered stare.

"What—I mean, how—when did you…"

Tali chuckled slightly as she couldn't help but admire her own slightly brutal handiwork. With a slight shake of her head, she pushed the pride out of her mind—she shouldn't enjoy hurting other people.

"Are you alright?" Shepard asked, stepping forward to examine the spot where Tali had been shot—carefully, of course.

"I'm fine," Tali said with a slight smile that was likely lost on him. "My shields absorbed most of the impact."

Shepard nodded a few times, the concerned frown still on his face. He turned around and picked the turian's pistol off the ground. "Did you get any information?"

"Right," Tali said, remembering the whole point of their being at the store. She lifted her omni-tool back up, expecting to see the plethora of shipping and sale records that she had set out to finding with her virus.

Tali frowned slightly as instead, a blank screen appeared displaying a few error codes.

"It didn't work," Tali said, confused at why it wouldn't have. Her plan was sound—there was no reason it shouldn't have worked.

Lost connection. She couldn't even access her trojan!

"It's a one-way connection," Tali said, shaking her head as she realized her stupidity. "They're not going to send data backwards—I'm sorry Shepard, it was a stupid mistake. I should have known better."

"It's alright," Shepard said reassuringly as he—somewhat hesitantly—put a hand on Tali's shoulder. "It's only a small mistake. Do you have any other plans?"

Tali shrugged as she ran the scenarios through her mind. There was a lot of possibilities, but there was no assurance that any of them would even work.

"Well," Tali began to say, unable to find any other solution. "There's one way."

"And that is?"

"We get a physical connection to the mainframe," Tali said with a shrug.

Shepard and Kaidan were both silent for a few moments, likely fathoming the difficulty of that task.

"Where is it even located?" Shepard asked.

"I think…" Tali began, tapping on her omni-tool. "Over here—the administrative offices," she said as she pointed at the holographic floor plan that floated above her wrist.

"And that will work?" Kaidan asked.

"It should," Tali said with a slow nod.

"Are you guys alright?" Garrus' voice came in over the communicators.

Tali had honestly forgotten about them—though in the end, the extra support hadn't been needed.

"New order of business," Shepard said as he spoke into his communicator. "We find the administrative offices."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Kethrel strode through the open gash in the city walls, the smell of molten metal and burnt plastic still meandering about in the air in a hazy cloud. His batarian comrades had long since left him—they had dashed away and into the city as soon as they had blown it wide—and Kethrel had solemnly followed, though at a much more casual rate. The words of his senior advisors were still fresh in his mind—he wasn't going to let himself walk headlong into a trap. He had a duty to fulfill, and he wasn't going to do a very good job of it lying face down in a pool of his own blood.

As he entered the bounds, he unclipped his hybrid rifle from his hip and held it casually in both of his hands across his chest, eyes flitting back and forth for any sign of movement beyond the small pieces of dust falling from the sky like snow and the pillowing smoke from the bonfires that blazed from the tanks carting gasoline and other very combustible fuels.

Gunfire could be heard from almost every direction as he entered deeper into the city, echoing around the tall buildings and alleyways. Many of the grand buildings—or at least, buildings that were presumably grand at one point—were now shattered ruins. Almost every single window had been broken and blasted away, and more than a couple of skyscrapers had large holes missing in the side—and it was a credit to Alliance engineering that they hadn't crumbled as of yet.

The loud, rhythmic cracking of an assault rifle jolted Kethrel from his observations as a lone soldier, wearing a navy blue breather helmet and a similarly colored suit of light reconnaissance armor dashed around the corner with a battle cry. The few bullets that struck Kethrel merely bounced off his shields, his suit of armor absorbing enough of the impact that he barely felt the bullets striking him.

In a swift movement, he lowered his rifle and flipped the lever on the side, barely even sighting down the scope as he fired one high powered sniper round, then a second, both easily absorbed by his shields but throwing him off balance as he staggered backwards, trying to regain his footing.

Kethrel dashed forward as he dived low, simultaneously switching his rifle to a shotgun as he unloaded a final, lethal volley into the man as he tried to bring his rifle back to bear. With a bloody squelch, the man fell backwards and landed heavily against one of the steel walls, quickly becoming motionless.

Kethrel turned around to examine the chaos once again, taking grim satisfaction in watching the fall of the Alliance. He took no great pleasure in ending lives—though he was not adverse to it in any way—but he could not deny the pleasure of watching one of their proud cities crumbling to the ground before them. One by one, their cities would fall until they were forced to submit to Cain—the people who should have had the reins of humanity from the start.

A loud explosion rocked the ground, the sound reaching him almost at the same time as the ground shook beneath his feet like some kind of carpet being pulled out from underneath him. As he fell to his knees, out of the corner of his eye he witnessed another grandiose explosion off in the distance. This time, the loud retort of metal and steel bending under pressure accompanied the heated air that rushed past him as the bomb, which had been placed somewhere at the base of the cluster of tall buildings which marked the centre of the city, blasted away the foundations of each of the skyscrapers, leaving them precariously perched and dangerously unstable.

"Going down!" a voice shouted through Kethrel's communicator—which sounded similar to one of the batarians who had been in the shuttle with him. As he spoke, Kethrel could already see the tall buildings tipping dangerously to one side, and with a final loud groan, the metal gave way as it collapsed onto itself, bending and flexing as the whole structure slammed into the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust and sparks and the metal distorted and bent. Another two buildings fell just like it—and then another two, and then another three, all collapsing and falling over like piles of dust and dominoes, until finally Kethrel's ears were met with a deadly silence as the crumbled ruins leaned against nearby buildings and the dust began to settle.

As Kethrel's hearing returned, the sound of gunfire from far away resumed, the soldiers unrelenting despite the heart of their very civilization having been torn and crushed and battered until it was no more. New Canton was over.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"First order of business?" Shepard asked as he glanced over at Tali walking confidently beside him.

"Hm?" she said with a curious look at Shepard.

"What do we need to take care of first?" Shepard reiterated.

Tali paused for a moment as she raised her eyes in thought. "Security systems," she said. "If they have cameras or alarms, we need to turn them off before we go in. Otherwise, it would alert every guard in the area."

"And probably every asari matriarch," Ashley added pointedly.

Shepard nodded a few times. "Do you know how to hack the systems?" Shepard asked.

"I think so," Tali said as she nodded slowly.

"Let me know once you're ready," Shepard said with a reassuring smile.

"Aren't you… coming?" Tali asked as her eyes displayed the frown which had likely formed on her face.

"I'm going to go for the mainframe," Shepard explained. "I've got a cloak and six years of military training—I'll be fine."

Tali slowly nodded a few times, though she appeared unsatisfied.

"Kaidan, you go with her," Shepard added. Kaidan was a reliable soldier—if they ran into any trouble, he was likely the best candidate for the job due to his biotics—and Shepard didn't quite trust Wrex, despite his obvious massive bulk, or Liara, and her equally capable biotic abilities.

"Alright," Tali said somewhat uncertainly. She slid a hand onto one of her pockets and pulled out a small, black colored metal clamp and handed it to Shepard. "You'll need to attach that directly to the mainframe so I can get a connection," she explained. "Then I can use the hard uplink to directly access the systems so that I can gain control of the shipment and purchasing records, and then from there I can go on to finding out—"

"I get it," Wrex interrupted. Shepard shot him a covert angry glance.

"Right," Tali said, stopping herself as she twiddled her thumbs at her waist. "I'll get going."

Without another word, she spun around and slowly—and stiffly—walked away. Kaidan gave Shepard a quick salute before he followed after her and the two of them disappeared around a corner.

"Then what are we all doing?" Ashley asked, glancing around at the remaining people gathered.

"I'll need backup in case things go wrong—I don't know what kind of resistance we're going to be facing inside," Shepard said. "Wrex, Ashley—you two will wait outside and be ready in the event that I need support."

"Without guns?" Ashley asked, raising an eyebrow at Shepard.

"Who needs guns?" Wrex said with a chuckle. "Especially not when everything else in the galaxy is so squishy."

"And Garrus," Shepard said, "Head back to the Normandy and tell Joker to get ready to get out of here. Once I'm finished, we probably don't want to hang around."

"What about Liara?" Garrus asked.

"Take her with you," Shepard said absently as he waved a hand in the air. "Then we all know what to do—good luck."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Do you have a plan?" Kaidan asked Tali as they walked through yet another hallway, stalling time until Tali was able to think of some kind of solution.

"Uhm, yes," Tali lied, rapidly trying to come up with some way of finding out how she might be able to take advantage of the security systems that were present throughout the facility.

"What's do we need to do?" Kaidan asked, glancing over at her.

"First, we need to find out where the security offices are," Tali said, trying her best to sound confident, though her visage of confidence was wavering underneath the fact that she really wasn't certain of where to go from here.

"Right," Kaidan said hesitantly. "Then… how are we doing that?"

Tali stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking up at one of the cameras attached to the corner of the ceiling. An idea suddenly made itself evident in her mind.

"The cameras," Tali said, cocking her head to the side slightly as she observed the lens within the glass orb repositioning itself as it focused on Tali and Kaidan.

"I just need to figure out where the signal is being sent to—just like what I did with the terminal," Tali said with a shrug. "It should work again."

Kaidan nodded his head a few times as Tali activated her omni-tool and scrolled through the lists of programs that she had on her omni-tool, until she found one which would hopefully work out. Establishing a connection with the camera wasn't difficult—in fact, she could easily disable the video feed from here—but she wouldn't be able to do that with multiple cameras if there were more within the chamber where the mainframe was located. No, what she wanted to do was stealthily hide a program which would transmit the location of the computer receiving the video feed. From there, she could gain access to all of the security systems—then there would be no risk of one of her hacks failing intermittently or the chance of missing an alarm somewhere.

Tali selected a program from her list, and after a few moments, a holographic map appeared above her wrist, a green dot which was the security offices pinging not so far away.

"There it is," Tali said with a little bit of pride.

Kaidan looked at the map for a few moments before he shrugged helplessly. "As long as you can lead the way," he said with a smirk.

Tali smiled slightly, glad that she had been able to come up with a plan. Pressure wasn't something she was unused to—after all, back on the Fleet, she had been the victim of a whole lot of dancing and prancing to please her elders—but this was different. There wasn't room for mistakes—the punishment wasn't a light slap on the back of the head or a stern chiding from her father, it was the life of someone that she cared about.

"There," Tali said as she pointed at a nondescript metal door. "That's the place."

Kaidan stepped towards the door, looking at it for a few moments before he turned around. "It's locked," he said.

Tali smiled easily as she brought up a program on her omni-tool that her father had devised what felt like ages ago. She could perhaps imagine he was still around—helping her out when she needed it.

The door slid open, revealing a messy looking room with a couple of chairs surrounding a desk, along with a large holographic display in the back of the room. A turian and a salarian lounged back in the chairs, apparently not very concerned with whatever was happening on the holographic display, but both instantly stood upright when the door slid open.

"This is a restricted area! Civilians are not allowed in here!" the salarian shouted, waving his hands wildly in front of him. The turian was slightly more reserved, instead standing stiffly as he stared at Tali curiously.

"The administrator sent us," Tali said, hoping to be able to string together some story that would allow them passage—like she had done on the Citadel, on that merchant freighter. However, this time, she wasn't talking to an unconcerned and meek dock worker—there were two fully armed men standing in front of her. The turian made no attempt to hide the rifle gleaming on his hip.

"Anoleis? Why would he send you?" the turian asked suspiciously.

"He said that there was a… problem… that needed dealing with," Tali said with a sly edge to her voice.

"A problem? Such as?"

"Such as a certain turian," Tali said, noticing as the turian's eyes widened ever so slightly. "Who hasn't been sending the appropriate information to Anoleis."

The turian's slightly worried expression faded away in a moment as he chuckled at Tali—similarly stealing away the small smile that had formed on her face.

"They're bluffing," the turian said as he stepped forward, putting a hand on the stock of his rifle. "Get out, before we need to hurt anybody."

Tali glanced over at Kaidan hurriedly—she really hadn't expected her plan to succeed, but she hadn't exactly planned on its failure either.

Tali slowly backed up, but Kaidan stood still in the doorway, unmoving. The turian stepped closer to him, visibly bristling as he tightened his grip on his rifle. The salarian cautiously followed beside him, similarly putting a hand on the pistol at his side.

"I said _leave,_" the turian said with a sneer as leaned in towards Kaidan.

Tali noticed the almost imperceptible blue glow around Kaidan, the common hint she had noticed over the last few weeks of whenever he was preparing a biotic attack of some sort. The two guards, on the other hand, appeared ignorant of this fact.

In a brief moment, both the salarian and the turian were sent flying backwards and slamming into the far wall, slipping through the holographic display and landing in a heavy heap on the ground. The turian lied very still, likely unconscious, but the salarian quickly rolled over onto his back, but stopped very quickly once he saw the pistol Kaidan held in his hand.

Kaidan stood above the salarian, calmly holding his pistol aimed at the salarian's head. Tali saw his muscles tensing as he slowly tightening his fingers on the trigger.

"Kaidan, wait," Tali said, putting a hand out towards him. The salarian looked over at Tali, terror evident in his eyes. There was no reason to kill the man—he was just doing his job.

Kaidan looked Tali in the eyes for a moment, nodding slightly as he caught her pleading gaze. He lowered his pistol and slipped it back into the side of his armor, the salarian holding his hands up beside his head unthreateningly and doing his best to smile at Kaidan.

Then Kaidan cocked an arm back and hit the salarian in the head, knocking him unconscious and on top of his turian companions.

"Kaidan!" Tali shouted, frowning at the man as he rolled his shoulder.

"We can't let him contact anybody else—not until Shepard is finished."

Tali's momentary spark of anger faded fast as she realized the necessity of the action. If they were going to have the best chance of success, they were going to have to make certain decisions. It was a cruel logic—soldier's logic.

As typical, Tali pushed her moral concerns aside as she instead chose to focus on the task at hand. She tapped on her omni-tool a few times, linking it with the terminal that was located in the corner of the room.

"Seven cameras, four sentry turrets," Tali said with a smirk as she looked over at Kaidan. "Disabling them now." With a satisfied grin, she watched the systems disarmed themselves and the turrets similarly powered down.

"Shepard, we've cleared the way," Kaidan said into his communicator.

"I can unlock the door from here—just let me know when," Tali said, stepping back to rest on top of the table still in the middle of the room.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

New Canton had fallen.

Kethrel strode through the ruined corpse of the once-magnificent city, the sounds of gunfire and explosions having long since been replaced by the baleful screams of dying men and broken families.

A pile of dead bodies was carelessly thrown to the side of the streets, a fire charring their now-unrecognizable corpse into one black tumor sprouting from the ground. Every so often, a batarian coated in blood or an emotionless geth platform, not even giving Kethrel so much as a sidelong glance, would stride past with its weapon in hand.

"Hey, boy!" a gruff batarian shouted from behind him. "Need some help!"

Kethrel turned around and followed, not out of any allegiance or fear but merely because he felt numbed and indifferent to the events that surrounded him.

He followed the batarian down a back alley where a single bonfire burned, and a group of two men—not even soldiers, by the look of it—were clustered in a corner, desperately grasping onto the rifles in their hands so tightly that their knuckles had turned white. Behind them, a trio of women, one with a child in hand, another with a grimy-faced boy who had streaks of tears running down his cheeks.

"Stay away," one of the men warned, standing up and pointing his rifle at the batarian. "I told you that we wouldn't attack unless you tried to hurt us."

The batarian glanced back at Kethrel as he waved a hand toward the civilians expectantly. Kethrel indignantly shook his head. They were defenseless and innocent—they had no reason to die. They had already surrendered.

"Still some left?" another batarian said from behind him as he led his squad of five other soldiers and charged past Kethrel, who had his arms crossed on his chest.

Without even giving the men time to react, the batarians unloaded their rifles onto the two men, tearing through them, uninhibited by any shields. The women screamed helplessly as they clenched onto each other and their children, staring at the violent batarians.

"Stop!" Kethrel shouted, lifting his rifle towards the batarians. "Don't hurt them!"

The front batarian raised a hand to stop his companions as he turned around and slowly walked towards Kethrel.

"And who the hell are you?" the batarian said as he narrowed his two pairs of eyes dangerously.

"Cain," Kethrel said firmly. "Back off."

The batarian stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Kethrel, standing shorter than him but considerably more stocky. He stared into his eyes for what felt like minutes, until his expression softened and he slowly nodded.

"Very well," the batarian said as he turned around slowly. "Leave them—"

The batarian spun around and flung his fist straight into Kethrel's face, cracking his nose and sending him sprawling to the ground, clutching for his rifle.

The batarians screamed wickedly as one of them drew out what looked to be a piece of steel torn from one of the buildings, swinging it above his head as he approached the defenseless civilians. Kethrel clenched his eyes shut, only wishing he could block out their screams as well.

As the batarians laughed, Kethrel heard the screams go silent as he opened his eyes, not wanting to look in the corner where they had huddled as he controlled his own revulsion. He picked himself back up, ignoring the blood dripping down his nose.

"A gift," the lead batarian said with a wicked grin as he handed a head to Kethrel—the child's head, a terrified and lifeless expression on his face.

Kethrel dropped the head onto the ground as he tried to hold himself back from vomiting, instead gripping tightly on his rifle. The batarians sneered at him as they walked past, but as the last one made his way around him, Kethrel lashed out with his rifle, knocking the batarian to the ground as he unloaded a shotgun round into his chest.

The other batarians quickly took note, but Kethrel barely noticed them. He spun his rifle around in his hands, unloading as many rounds as he could at the batarians, blowing their shields and then their skulls one at a time, until finally they all lied on the ground, their blood mixing with the blood of the innocents they had killed.

Kethrel fell to his knees, unable to restrain himself from vomiting across the bloodstained ground, tears silently falling from his eyes. Was this worth it? Were they justified in killing all of these innocent people just for the sake of stopping the Alliance?

What if that child had been him? He had been in the hands of Alliance pirates when Cain had saved him—and that child had been in the hands of the foul batarians when Cain should have intervened—but he was too weak.

But Cain wasn't here to help.

That simple fact tore Kethrel apart from inside of him. They _wanted_ this. They wanted everyone to bleed, civilians and soldiers alike. They didn't care who was innocent or who was guilty—they wanted everyone to die.

Kethrel vomited on the ground again before he pushed himself away and staggered out of the alleyway, determined to leave this planet and never return.

Cain—the murderous brother of the Alliance.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

As typical, thanks to Azzorath for his support and reviewing, and also, a new name to add to the list: ProjektNemesis7. He's also been helping with some beta reading as of late-it's very much appreciated! Thanks!

With that being said and with little else to be said (unless my feeble memory has slipped me once again), I bid thee farewell!


	31. The One To Fear

**:: Chapter Thirty One :: **The One To Fear **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Silent but distant_

_Real but not seen_

_Here but not happening_

_Forever has been_

_Into this absence_

_Two had but stayed_

_Behind them, darkness_

_Ahead, the unknown_

_-Be'lakor-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

"We're almost in position," Shepard said through his communicator, loosening the pistol at his hip.

"Let me know when," Tali replied.

Shepard glanced over at Ashley and Wrex, standing next to him. "Stay out here and be on the lookout for anybody that comes in behind me—I don't need any surprises."

"What—we're not fighting?" Wrex said with a disappointed look on his face.

"You probably will," Shepard admitted with a shrug. "And if something goes wrong, I'll need the two of you to get in there before they gut me."

Wrex nodded a few times and Ashley gave him a tight salute as he turned around and headed through the first door—though this one wasn't restricted. The door slid open and revealed what looked to be a lounge of some sort—a pair of drab, black couches were placed facing each other in the middle of the room, a pair of salarians sitting at one and idly chatting with each other—no doubt about some backroom deal, of course. They glanced momentarily at Shepard, quieting their voices to a hushed whisper as Shepard calmly walked past them and to his real destination.

"Which door?" Shepard asked quietly over his communicator.

"The second to your right," Tali responded. "Be careful when you go in—I've already disabled the alarms and turrets, but I saw at least two guards."

"It's alright, I'm armed," Shepard said as he put a hand on the strange pistol that he had pilfered from the two shopkeepers.

"Only if we have to," Tali said—the command shocking Shepard slightly.

"Right," Shepard said after a moment's pause. Only as a last resort.

"The door's open," Tali announced after a little while longer, and Shepard—watching to make sure neither of the lounging salarians were watching—engaged his cloaking module and slipped through the door. Shepard breathed a silent sigh of relief as the door slid shut behind him, and there was no blaring alarms or pattering feet chasing after him. No matter how many years of training he might have had, there was no chasing away the slight moment of exhilaration and terror he felt as he walked on a tightrope, one mistake away from catastrophe.

He dashed forward, being careful to make sure that his metal boots made no sound on the floor—another skill that he had nearly perfected during his training. As he made his way through another hallway and around the next bend, he opened up into a wide chamber which was empty other than the door and two guards at the opposite end of the room.

Shepard came to a halt as he watched the two guards from the end of the hallway, quickly scanning to see how they were armed. Both held assault rifles and wore thick suits of combat armor—making them less mobile but far better protected. If he had his knife with him, he could have easily slid it between the shoulder plates or into their neck, but with the puny pistol at his side, he wasn't sure how much he could do.

"Got incoming," Wrex's voice said through the communicator in Shepard's ear.

"Damnit," Shepard quietly muttered to himself. "How many?"

"An asari and a turian coming to visit," Wrex said.

"Get ready to come in on my mark," Shepard warned as he realized that he would have to take action now. His cloaking module wouldn't last another minute to wait for the new guards to take their place—if they were even switching, and not merely returning to hold post with them.

Shepard slipped back around the corner and disengaged his cloaking module as he pulled the pistol out of its holster and pointed it at the ground, firing it once before he threw it back into its clasp and reactivated his cloaking module.

As expected, the two guards took note of the gunshot, though to his displeasure, one of the guards stayed at the door while the other slowly moved forward, holding his rifle in front of him.

Shepard nimbly dashed past the guard who was approaching the hallway, being careful not to let a gust of wind from his approach alert the guard. Shepard ran up to stand beside the other guard by the door, slipping his pistol back out of his holster as he waited for the other guard to disappear down the hallway. After an achingly long time, he disappeared down the hallway, and Shepard silently counted to himself before jumping into action.

He dropped his cloaking module while he simultaneously dropped his fist into the turian's face, taking him by complete surprise as the man fell backwards, his hands waving in the air to regain his balance as his rifle went flying a few feet away from him. Unrelenting, Shepard shoved the pistol into the turian's forehead and began to fire, but the weak pistol merely set the guard's shields flickering.

Five shots in, the turian realized how desperate his situation had become and swung a hand to knock off his attacker. Shepard deftly dodged the blow, coming in harder as he slammed a fist into the turian's face in between bullets. Finally, after what must have been the tenth or eleventh bullet, the turian's shields gave way with a brilliant blue flash and the next bullet punched through his skull—with a less brilliant blue splatter. Finished with his victim—and already hearing the pounding footsteps of the other guard behind him, Shepard dashed towards the door and ran through it, letting it close behind him.

"I'm in," Shepard said over his communicator as his eyes scanned the room. It was quite simple—one of the walls was lined with a bookshelf which was loaded up with leather-bound manuals and other books of an unknown sort, and the back wall was covered in a variety of equipment ranging from tools to spare engine parts, so it seemed.

On the opposite corner of the room was a stubby looking terminal, with a large body that was abnormally large compared to even some of the largest market terminals.

"It should be in there somewhere," Tali said.

"I think I found it," Shepard said. "What do I do with the clip?"

"Just open the side panel and attach it to something metal," Tali said.

Following her orders, Shepard went down on to his knees as he examined the smooth sides of the terminal. "What side panel?" Shepard said, acutely aware of the likelihood that the guard would check the vault as soon as he had finished examining his companion.

"There—just—try to find some way to open it," Tali said, stuttering slightly.

With a shrug, Shepard pulled the pistol off his hip and fired it into the corner of the machine—being careful to aim it so that the bullet would only punch through the steel and hopefully not anything inside. Shepard shoved a finger into the bullet hole, stretching out the metal as he ripped open the side compartment and clipped the small clasp onto the first shining piece of wire he saw.

"Is it working?" Shepard asked.

"I've got a connection," Tali said. "You're done—but watch out, there are three guards outside."

As Tali finished her sentence, the door slid open and Shepard slipped his cloak back on as quickly as he could manage. Two turians rushed into the room, their rifles armed and ready, the asari quickly closing the door behind her.

"Need backup," Shepard muttered into his communicator, hoping that none of the three soldiers would hear him. He glanced down at his wrist—only eleven percent power reserves left. Barely enough to stop a few bullets.

With a determined shake of his head, he stood up and slipped past the two turians and then prepared to run.

Shepard dashed out of the door—apparently very expectedly, as the asari spun around and began firing almost instantaneously—but rather than follow the expected path of straight down the hallway, he dived to the side and watched as the three soldiers unloaded their bullets down the hallway, where a loud stomping could be heard echoing.

Of course, when all three of them dashed into the hallway expecting to find their invisible victim, they weren't prepared for the five hundred pound krogan that barrel into them like a cargo train does to a defenseless box.

Thrown by the force of impact—and by a biotic push, based on the abnormal way which they soared through the air—they all slammed heavily into the wall at the opposite side of the room and crumpled down on the floor. The asari was the first to recover, lifting her hand as she likely attempted some kind of biotic attack, but her resistance was cut short as the same five-hundred pound krogan slammed her into the wall again, crushing her ribs and bones as she passed out from the pain.

Ashley quickly followed behind, grabbing onto one of the rifles which lied discarded on the ground after Wrex's initial attack, levelling it at the two remaining turians and taking them both out with ease.

Shepard uncloaked and slowly walked towards them, a smirk on his face.

"Shepard!" Wrex said with a lopsided grin. "You're not dead yet."

"Not yet," Shepard said with a wry smile.

"Damn, Wrex, I didn't think that krogan biotics existed," Ashley said with a curious look of amusement on her face.

"And I didn't think that female warriors existed either," Wrex casually retorted.

"Shepard—we should probably get going," Tali said over his communicator nervously. "The security guards here are starting to wake up."

"I can just hit them again," Kaidan chimed in, perhaps a little too happily.

"We should get going," Tali said again.

"We'll be there in a minute," Shepard said as he dashed back down the hallway, skidding to a stop and holding his pistol out in front of him as the same woman in the tight pink dress stood casually in front of the door.

The woman merely raised a hand in front of her as all three of them dangerously pointed their weapons at her, the hint of a smile even on her face.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself," she said with a sly smile. "Gianna Parasini—Alliance Internal Affairs."

Shepard lowered his pistol somewhat as he regarded her. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got a proposition for you, _Commander Shepard._"

Shepard glanced over at Wrex and Ashley, motioning for them to lower their rifles.

"You're here to go to Peak Fifteen—right?" she asked.

Shepard nodded hesitantly.

"I thought so—especially with all the rachni around."

"Rachni?" Wrex suddenly shouted from behind Shepard.

Parasini put a finger to her lips as she smiled. "That information is for free. But I can offer you more—if you do a little favor for me."

"Get to the point," Shepard said.

"I'm here to take down Anoleis—he's been scamming innocent people for the last three years and I'm going to put a stop to that. The information that you got off the mainframe—that information can help me crack down on Anoleis."

"And in return?"

"I get you transportation to Peak Fifteen, and all of your weapons back."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "I don't need your help."

"Didn't you see the snowstorm on your way in?" Gianni asked pointedly. "Peak Fifteen's landing bay—along with those of seven other research labs—have all been buried under twelve meters of snow. So, unless you brought some shovels along with you, I don't believe you have a choice."

Shepard bit his lip slightly, hoping that she wasn't bluffing just to get information from him. "You can get us all that you promised?" Shepard asked again to confirm.

"Once Anoleis is out of the way, it will be a simple matter."

Shepard nodded a few times as he considered the offer.

"Then let's do it."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Preparation for the whole exchange was a simple matter—Tali already had all of the data loaded up onto her omni-tool, and since the bug that Shepard had planted was still inserted into the back of the mainframe, accessing the data that Parasini needed was even easier.

"He's inside of here," Parasini said as she nodded towards a large door on the side of the room. "I've been posing as his secretary for the last three months—I'll be glad to get the hell out of here."

Shepard merely nodded a few times. Parasini opened the door and Shepard funneled through with her, Ashley and Wrex trailing behind.

They made their way through the slightly-more luxurious office and around a corner, where Parasini stood stiffly at the corner.

"Yes, yes, I'm very busy," Shepard heard someone saying from around the corner—presumably Anoleis?

"Alliance Internal Affairs, you're under arrest," Parasini stated simply as she began making her way towards Anoleis.

Shepard similarly made his way around the corner, sighting the grey-skinned salarian slowly rising from his desk, his eyes darting between the two people in his office. Knowing his arrest to be imminent, he dived over top the table and ran past Parasini, only to land in Shepard's hard grip and into the chest of a five hundred pound krogan.

Anoleis fell to the ground at the sight of the massive krogan, doing his best to crawl backwards, though Shepard's firm grip prevented him from doing so. Parasini stepped forward, grabbing Anoleis' arms and tightly locking them together with some kind of device.

"Damnit! Let go of me at this instant!" Anoleis shouted, obviously already lost. "I have connections! They won't be pleased!"

"Shut up," Parasini said roughly as she shoved him to his feet and towards the door.

"Thanks, Shepard," Parasini shot back at him as she made her way towards the door. "Just give me a minute to throw this bastard into the corner, then I'll arrange everything for you."

Shepard watched with some small amusement as Parasini manhandled the salarian into a small room on the side which was likely used as an office at one point, and locked the door shut with a tap on her omni-tool.

Parasini gave Shepard a nod as she walked past him and towards the panel that was on Anoleis' desk. She tapped on it a few times, and then spoke into the microphone.

"Captain Stirling—the crew of the Normandy are permitted to carry weapons in Port Hanshan. Effective immediately."

A string of protests initially came back through the device, but Parasini interrupted them with the press of a button. She continued to tap in silence for another few moments, before she finally looked up at Shepard.

"I've organized a trip to Peak Fifteen—look for a turian named Lilihierax, he'll take you there."

Shepard nodded silently a few times, glad that they had chosen to assist Parasini. What kind of situation they would be in right now otherwise was beyond him—but all he knew was that after infiltrating the mainframe, he had no idea of transportation, of getting their weapons back, or of even getting out alive. Without a doubt, if not for Parasini's intervention, a plethora of guards likely would have met them and swiftly ended their lives.

"Thank you, Gianna," Shepard said, lowering his head in respect. She merely gave him a small smile and a salute.

"Good luck, Commander."

Shepard turned around and left the office, and began speaking into his omni-tool.

"Tali, Kaidan, Garrus, we're finished here. Garrus—you should be cleared to bring weapons through the front gate, now."

"Oh, crap," Garrus' reply came back. "Liara! Shut the bomb off!"

Shepard listened in stunned silence for a moment.

"Kidding," Garrus said with a slight chuckle.

Shepard shook his head at the joke. Perhaps Garrus was spending too much time with Joker after all.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Lilihierax?" Shepard asked to a grungy looking turian leaning against the wall next to the entrance into the large vehicle garage.

"Yup, that's me," the turian said, stepping forward and gesturing to himself. "And you're Shepard, right?"

Shepard nodded curtly as he gestured for everybody else to follow him—all the while, Tali was closely watching him.

She wasn't quite sure how to gauge the man in front of him—like she had witnessed so many times before, it seemed like so many different people inhabited the body in front of him. No longer did he stoop a little while he walked, and the eternal grimace had been wiped off his face, and instead, he strode confidently with the hints of a smile at the edges of his lips. It made Tali happy to see that he hadn't so quickly reverted to old ways.

"Come on, all of you," Lilihierax said as he turned around and headed through the doors into the expansive car garage which had a couple of large looking tanks spread throughout it, a few of them missing large side panels.

"We're going to be taking that one, over there," Lilihierax said as he gestured towards a vehicle that looked oddly similar to the Mako which was present within the Normandy's own armory. "Tough little bugger, that thing is. Warm, too. Don't want to get stranded out here—especially when the storm warnings are in full effect."

A gunshot skidded past Lilihierax's left shoulder without any warning, sending the man tumbling to the ground as he raised his hands over his head in protection. Rather than follow the mechanic's example, Tali swung her shotgun from her back quickly, taking some small comfort from the feel of the heavy weapon back in her possession.

"Geth!" Garrus shouted out, his long rifle already off his back and up to his eyes as he sighed down the long garage, letting lose a shot with a loud crack that echoed across the stone walls. A silvery-white colored piece of metal fell from the ceiling, suddenly fully apparent, landing heavily on the ground.

"What the hell are those things?" Kaidan shouted as he began firing his assault rifle across the ceiling, hoping that the spray would strike some of the difficult to see creatures that were all over the ceiling.

"Can't get a clear shot," Ashley shouted out. "They've got cloaking modules or something!"

But Tali didn't need to see to strike.

She lowered her shotgun, lifting up her omni-tool, the most valuable weapon which she carried to combat these machines. Nearly half of her training had been spent learning how to stop the foul creatures, and now she would finally get a chance to put some of it to full use.

Hoppers—that's what her father called them. She had only ever seen her father bringing one of them onto his workbench before, but the strange looking machine had stuck in her mind. The whole machines were covered in a sinewy kind of material which had the appearance of muscles bare beneath the skin, and wide hands which had webbing in between the fingers. Their legs were incredibly powerful, and they had mass effect drivers within their architecture, lending them the ability to launch themselves across gaps and onto ceilings and walls.

But every geth had a weakness—one that her father had preached to her many times. Cutting a geth off from its allies reduced its effectiveness by many times, as it lost the ability to make rational decisions or even carry out simple battle plans. But Tali could only hope that her plan would work.

Tali activated a program that would latch onto one of the hoppers—whichever one happened to be available, since Tali's eyes were unable to make out the occasional disturbances that flitted across her vision. But her omni-tool needed no eyes—easily picking out one of the hoppers from the swarm that circled them, sending pellets flying harmlessly into their shields.

As the runtime took hold the geth, blocking its input communication channels, the machine simply stopped moving, it's faint silhouette visible against the metal ceiling. Another program disabled the machine's power reserves—and it fell to the ground with a clang, unable to keep its mass effect cores running and simultaneously dropping its cloak.

With a satisfied grin beneath her mask, Tali repeated the same protocol once more—and then again, and then a third time, until the geth began to simply fall from the ceiling as if a plague had infected them, causing them to sporadically lose control of their limbs and simply let go of their tenuous hold.

With a final tap on her omni-tool, the final geth that she was able to detect in the area fell to the ground next to Shepard, who quickly flipped his shotgun around his hand and fired a final barrage into the inert machine's head, permanently disabling it.

They solemnly finished the massacre, moving to each of the disabled geth platforms and preventing it's eventual revival by shattering it's optics, preventing it from ever being able to sight it's targets again.

"Tali, was that you?" Garrus asked, looking back at the quarian who was standing in the back of the room.

"A little bit," Tali said, beaming with joy on the inside, but not wanting to be overtly prideful in the face of the many seasoned soldiers that surrounded her.

"A little bit?" Kaidan echoed with a chuckle. "Hell, those things were dropping like flies!"

Even Ashley added a small smile and patted Tali on the shoulder. "Not bad."

Tali smiled a bit wider underneath her mask, knowing that nobody would be able to see her likely goofy looking grin, anyways. She quickly glanced over at Shepard, matching his approving nod for a few moments before she turned her attention back ahead.

"Come on," Shepard said as he gestured for them to get moving. "As nicely as Tali dealt with those, I don't think we want to wait for more."

Shepard headed over to one of the Mako-like vehicles while Lilihierax rolled out from underneath one of the vehicles that was parked in the garage. He pushed himself off the ground and frowning as he observed a set of scrapes on his initially-clean blue outfit.

"Only going to get worse," Lilihierax muttered under his breath.

They climbed into the Mako—though it wasn't the same one they had in the Normandy—Lilihierax taking the driver's seat and Shepard sitting down beside him. Everybody else filed into the back—there was enough room for at least six people in the back compartment, which was fortunate for them since Wrex took up two whole seats and still had to bend down low to even fit inside the vehicle.

Tali more closely examined the vehicle, noting the differences. The Mako back on the Normandy only had four seats, and was slightly sparser than this one. As well, as far as she could tell, this vehicle wasn't armed with any weapons—something she wasn't exactly comfortable with considering the fact that geth were apparently on Noveria.

"So, you're looking to help out with the rachni?" Lilihierax mentioned casually to Shepard as everyone wiggled into their seats.

Shepard glanced back at his companions for a moment, concern in his eyes. Wrex leaned forward—more forward than he was forced to—and Ashley shot a worried glance over at Kaidan.

"Rachni?" Shepard finally asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"Hell, you didn't know about the rachni?" Lilihierax said as he glanced back at his passengers with a slight smirk.

"Thought we wiped those bastards off the face of the galaxy," Wrex said.

"I thought so too," Kaidan chipped in.

"So did I," Lilihierax said. "Don't know what the hell happened, but we've got rachni up at Peak Fifteen. They've been bleeding closer to Port Hanshan—I thought that Parasini sent you mercs to go and help clean up."

"We're not mercenaries," Shepard said quietly. The façade was pointless now—they were already on their way to finding Benezia, and Anoleis had been taken out of the picture. Parasini—at least, according to Kaidan—had all of the power in Port Hanshan, at least until someone realized that Anoleis had been knocked down.

"Not mercenaries?" Lilihierax said as he glanced over at Shepard curiously. "Then what are you?"

"Alliance," Shepard said simply. "We're looking for someone of importance."

Lilihierax nodded a few times. "Well, that someone probably has something to do with our rachni problem—I'd place a bet on that."

They were silent for a few moments as the Mako skidded across the snowy terrain, occasionally coming dangerously close to the precarious edges which appeared to drop off hundreds of meters, leading to a black void below.

"That's a long fall," Tali said, looking out the window.

"This ain't my first time around these parts," Lilihierax said. "Don't worry—I haven't dropped anybody over the edge yet."

For some reason, the mechanic's words didn't make her feel much better.

"Oh crap," Lilihierax said as he gripped more tightly onto the wheel. That likely didn't bode well either.

"Geth!" Shepard said loudly, gesturing towards a trio of silvery clad machines standing in the snow.

"I see 'em!" Lilihierax shouted, turning the wheel to try and slip around them.

"Don't you have guns on this thing?" Ashley shouted out.

"Only the ones you're carrying!" Lilihierax shouted back. The sound of pellets scattering off the thick metal plating of the Mako met their ears as the geth began to unload fire.

"Hell, they can't do nothing," Lilihierax said as he leaned back in his chair. "Those bead-shooters can't even poke through the plating."

"But that might," Garrus said calmly as one of the geth's rifles lit up with bright flames, sending a rocket flying towards them.

"Oh," Lilihierax said, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the incoming projectile. "Shit."

The rocket slammed into the front window, a multitude of bright blue flashes lighting up as the shields did their best to stop as much of the shrapnel as possible, but even that wasn't enough to stop the window from sprouting large cracks along its surface.

"Damn," Lilihierax said as he observed the cracked window. "This'll cost me at least twenty thousand credits to fix!"

"Not now!" Tali shouted, standing up slightly. "What are the shields at?"

"Uh... zero?"

Tali resisted the urge to shake the turian as she sat back down in her seat, tapping on her omni-tool as she gained control of the vehicle's power distribution—easily bypassing the novice security systems.

Quickly rerouting power from non-essential sources—like internal lighting and the path smoothing computer, she drew some energy back into the drained batteries, bringing the shields back up to an eighteen point six percent capacity.

"Damned lights went out! We're going down!" Lilihierax shouted as he gripped onto the wheel for dear life.

"I just redistributed the power," Tali shouted. "We've got shields again!"

"Not for long!" Garrus pointed out, gesturing towards the six geth soldiers standing in their path.

"What do I do?" Lilihierax shouted, panicking as he grew closer to the machines.

"Just run over them!" Shepard shouted.

"Shepard, I don't think you're qualified to give anybody driving advice!" Kaidan shouted from the back of the vehicle.

"Just do it!" Ashley shouted.

Lilihierax shook his head wildly. "If there's some kind of god out there, let him have mercy on my poor soul!"

They approached the three geth rapidly, each of them armed with the same launchers that the other one had, lifting them up in unison as the Mako veered towards them at an ever increasing speed.

Lilihierax shut his eyes tightly, muttering some incomprehensible words under his breath as the Mako slammed into the three geth with a small thud, sending them flying in a spray of small metal parts and white conductive fluid.

"Open your eyes!" Shepard shouted, hitting Lilihierax on the shoulder. "The wall!"

Lilihierax opened his eyes, simultaneously spinning the wheel to the right, spinning the Mako around as it came to a stop.

They were silent for a few moments, everybody's heart pounding from the tension of the moment.

"Shepard, I think we've found your driving match," Kaidan finally said, breaking the silence.

They each laughed uneasily—with the exception of Wrex and Liara, who were respectively bored and terrified—as Lilihierax shook his head a few times and turned the Mako back around.

"Can't believe I made it out of that alive," the turian said with a wide grin on his face.

They were silent for another minute as the Mako drove in silence, the wind whistling past the gashes in the vehicle's heavy metal plating.

"Tell us about the rachni," Shepard finally said.

"Showed up about a week, week and a half ago," Lilihierax said. "We caught a couple of them near Port Hanshan and shot them down—then we followed them all the way back to Peak Fifteen. We're not supposed to interfere with our customer's private affairs, but we sent a platoon of ERCS soldiers out to hold them back."

"ERCS?" Shepard queried.

"Elanus Risk Control Services," Lilihierax explained. "Basically mercenaries—they just like to sound all professional and such."

"Why would the rachni come back after all these years? Or how?" Garrus asked from the back seat, a pensive look—or at least, Tali thought it was pensive—on his face.

"I'm hoping that you'll figure that out and stop them," Lilihierax said with a shrug.

"Another chance to get some action," Wrex said with a low chuckle. "Maybe you'll do get a few more kills this time, Shepard—last time you spent too much time in the corner and not enough shooting!"

"Maybe next time the surprise biotic won't turn everyone into a trainwreck before I get a chance to move," Shepard said with a chuckle.

"Biotic?" Kaidan asked curiously.

"That's right," Ashley said as she shot him a wry smirk. "Competition."

"Man," Kaidan said as he shook his head in mock disappointment. "I can never catch a break."

"This is the place," Lilihierax said as he rolled the Mako to a stop near a large metal door with a few blinking lights outside. "Peak Fifteen—for your viewing pleasure."

"Where are the rachni?" Shepard asked as he looked past the cracks in the large glass window.

"Not sure," Lilihierax said with a shrug. "The ERCS might have pushed them back to the facilities—last week, the damn buggers were swarming the whole facility. If I were you, I'd hang onto those rifles."

"I'm not giving this thing up again," Garrus said, motioning towards the long rifle on his back. "Just feels wrong not to carry it around."

"At least we agree on one thing," Ashley said with a slight smirk as she looked out the window.

Lilihierax pressed a few buttons and the side door of the Mako slid open with a hiss, cold air rushing inside and chilling the passengers.

"I'd try and get inside quickly," Lilihierax said as they began to unload. "Don't want to be spending too much time in the cold."

"Where will you be going?" Shepard asked the mechanic.

"Hell, I don't know," the turian said with a shake of his head. "Sure as hell not the way we came—there's a back road, I just hope that geth haven't occupied all of those, too. Either way, wish me luck!"

The door to the Mako slid shut as Lilihierax spun the vehicle around, drive back the way that they had come and then abruptly taking a sharp turn down another road which led down deeper in the black canyon which had laid beside the road they took.

"Hopefully he makes it back," Kaidan said as he stood beside Shepard, looking down into the dark valley.

"Move it," Ashley said, making her way towards the door. "I'm freezing out here."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

The hunter stepped out of the shuttle, his boots uncomfortably sticking to the ground from the dried blood that covered the floor and much of his boots. In fact, it covered much of his body as well, though he had tried to clear as much of it away as possible. The blood seeped through his recon armor and underneath to drench his clothing, the sticky liquid hardening around his clothing like a shell that hung onto his skin.

His head still wavered and his vision still flickered on and off as he staggered his way into the Citadel.

A few people—in fact, many people—cast him strange glanced out of the corners of their eyes as he walked past. He was different—and they could feel it. It emanated from him like light emanated from a star, the aura of power and the ability to absolutely dominate any of the people standing around him if he so chose. The power to destroy any foe he chose, to stalk his prey and end their lives, the game cycling over and over again until he had destroyed all that was wrong in this galaxy. He was a predator. A stalker. A murderer.

He was a hunter.

A hunter who had been brought to his knees.

He was a weakling.

He had given in to his emotions, his sparking anger and ambition. It was what had led him to his fall.

He had been arrogant—he had abandoned his chance to escape, believing that he was superior to all that surrounded him. But he was.

But not any longer.

The stump of the hunter's right hand itched—the only memory of his lost limb that he could hold. His right hand had been ground to dust—the shrapnel from the bomb had slid through his flesh, shredding the thin wrapping which he had covered around his palms and wrist, and shredding the skin and muscle and shattering his bones until his right arm had becoming nothing other than a charred piece of soaking meat hanging at his side, constantly sending waves of brutal pain up his arm and threatening to send him crashing down again.

And it wouldn't stop bleeding. The pulpy mass of flesh wouldn't stop bleeding. The hunter had spread out three whole packets of medigel on it, and it wouldn't stop bleeding, dripping onto the floor at an alarming rate. He wouldn't have survived the trip to the Citadel if he hadn't done what he had needed to do.

The hand was gone, either way. If he hadn't cut it off, there wouldn't have been a chance to fix it. Even the most renowned doctors couldn't bring a dead limb back to life.

And he had lost his pistol. Aside from his long sniper rifle, it had been his only companion in the darkness, his only friend in the lonely nights. The only one who would share his vengeance, the only one that would share his stealth, and the only one that would share his hatred.

But not all he had was his long sniper rifle—useless. With only one hand—and his left one, at that—it was useless to him. It was no more useful than a one hundred pound baseball bat hanging on his back.

In a wave of dizziness, the hunter nearly fell over sideways, his legs jittering as he guided himself to one of the metal crates stacked up on the side of the pathway. His vision flickered again as he pushed himself to stay awake, pushing the pain into the forefront of his mind to shock him awake, if nothing else.

After a few moments, he let out a deep breath and rubbed a hand through his bloodstained hair which hung down to his shoulders. The hunter reached into a pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper, which had been on the opposite side of his body which had been soaking in the pool of blood. Despite that, nearly half the page was stained red.

Names covered the page, some named crossed out neatly, others viciously marked off or torn to shreds. Jerryl Markin. Darwin Kiriil.

And then there was Bradley Kerris—his name sitting neatly in a dry pile without a damning line to cross out his name.

The hunter clenched the paper up in his hands, gripping onto it tightly with his rage. How could he have failed so badly?

After a few moments, he took another deep breath as he unfolded the clenched up paper, and set it down on his lap as he shoved his left hand back into his pockets, searching for the pen he had kept on him, despite their falling out many years ago with the advent of the portable communicator.

With his left hand, he scrawled out a name, the letters stretched and jagged as his left hand shook while he wrote. He barely made his way through a "J" before he clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth together in rage.

Incapability. It drowned him.

He opened his eyes again, determined to write the name down. Ignoring the horrible jagged lines and the elongated curves, he scrawled the name down on his piece of paper, right beside Bradley Kerris.

Johnathan Shepard.

* * *

Hey, everybody. A bunch of you probably noticed that this chapter is a fair bit late. This comes with an announcement of sorts.

The Painted Grey will be suspended from this point.

I'm not sure how long that will hold-perhaps a week, perhaps a month, but for however long, perhaps I'll come back some day and get back to writing. I have a couple chapters already written, which I'll likely dispense while I'm gone, but life has been so incredibly busy and hectic as of late that I simply haven't had the time to write like I used to.

Furthermore, I think I've healed. It's a little-known fact that when I started writing this, it was a way for me to cope with my own loneliness and the fact that after finishing Mass Effect 3 too many times, I realized that my best friends were damned video game characters-and that hurt me. So, I fabricated my own world that I could inhabit in my imagination, manipulating my "friends" like toys in some kind of grand board game.

But I've healed. The scathing loneliness which I once felt has abated-in no small part due to recent developments in my own life. I'm more conscious of how much of a social person I am than I ever was before, but at the same time, I'm not alone. A lot this doesn't need to be said-after all, to many of you, I'm just the man behind the words that you perhaps enjoy reading every now and then, but I guess I enjoy justifying myself in some way or another.

Either way, I want to make sure that it's known that I view what I've done in the last few months no small feat. The Painted Grey has been one of the proudest accomplishments of my meager life-nearly two hundred thousand words of my own imagination and hundreds of hours of work, and the only reason that I feel that kind of pride is because of the people who read and review what I write. As to that, I extend a sincere thank you to everybody who has been reading this; as you're all companions to me on my desolate road and give me a little bit of warmth on the cold nights.

I apologize to the whole of you for suspending my tale like this-and at such a point, as well. As Azzorath once mentioned to me, I couldn't disappoint him unless I stopped writing. For that, I apologize, though perhaps I'll return some time. Perhaps some time soon.

Until we next meet, Ne Obliviscaris.

-Zalgroth


	32. Live Free

**:: Chapter Thirty Two :: **Live Free **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_Did we make it through the night_

_Or was it just a dream of woe_

_But still your heart was strong_

_To lead us all through_

_The gentle morning mist_

_Still veiling the graves_

_Breathe it in and watch the sunrise_

_Time will wait for us_

_Like the ghosts still lingering on the flowers_

_Time won't heal, it just buries the pain_

_And slowly changes form_

_-Swallow the Sun-_

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

Shepard and his group of companions trailing behind him slowly made their way toward the large metal garage door, the silvery metal painted orange and beginning to rust in multiple places. As they approached the door, Shepard looked over at Tali and motioned toward the door.

With a nod, Tali stepped forward and pulled her omni-tool up, and the garage door slid open almost instantaneously.

"That fast?" Ashley said, surprised.

"It wasn't locked," Tali said, a note of confusion in her voice. "No security?"

"I guess not," Shepard said with a shrug.

"Maybe the ERCS unlocked it," Kaidan offered with a similar shrug.

They stepped through the garage door, leaving the chilling winds and snow behind as they unclasped their respective weapons and held them at the ready, all of them understanding the potential danger that they were walking into. The lights here hung from the ceilings and swung about as the earth gently shook beneath them like the breathing of some giant beast, sending the lights swinging this way and that, making the shadows run and jump in between the many crates that were piled up.

"Tali, check for geth," Shepard said as he extended a hand, stopping their group. With another curt nod, she pulled her omni-tool up, glancing down at the device occasionally while she scanned the premises.

"No geth."

It was odd, like Lilihierax said—he said that rachni had been swarming the place only a short while ago. What happened? Where did they all go? And what was Benezia's stake in all this?

So many questions—hopefully they could be answered in time.

Their small group continued on through the garage, albeit a little bit slower, the leaping shadows putting everybody on edge.

"Shouldn't there be some sign of combat?" Garrus asked, echoing Shepard's thoughts. "I thought Lilihierax said that rachni were swarming the place."

"What does he know?" Ashley said with a snort. "He could barely hold himself together when the geth attacked us."

Shepard continued forward, heading out to the back door, which opened without the need for any kind of countermeasures or passphrases.

"Where do you think we'll find Benezia?" Kaidan idly asked as Shepard stopped in the doorway, looking out into the open courtyard with a suspicious frown.

"We'll scope out the area," Shepard said with a nod. "It can't be too big—and we might be able to find out more information once we get inside."

Shepard stepped out into the open courtyard, which was sealed off with four walls and a ramp leading up to a door on the opposite side, but no roof, which meant that the snow was back to whipping in their faces, the frigid winds chilling their skin.

"Tali's lucky," Ashley said with a grimace. "At least she always has her helmet on."

Shepard smiled slightly to himself—both at the statement and at the fact that Ashley had decided to stop calling her "the quarian".

"Over there," Garrus said, pointing over at the few pillars spread around the courtyard, holding the catwalk overhead. Along almost each of the pillars, there were long blackened stripes and gashes across the otherwise pristine metal surface. It didn't look like any weapon that he had ever seen before—perhaps a flamethrower could have caused the ashy-looking burns, but what about the gashes? Was someone toting a broadsword with them?

"The damage is fresh," Wrex said as he pointed to a table which was overturned over on one side of the room. "The snow hasn't piled up yet."

He was right—on the tables, there was no more than half an inch of snow. Luckily, the walls provided some shielding, but on the far wall, the snow had built up to nearly four feet deep. The table had recently been moved.

"No more than an hour," Wrex said observantly. Shepard nodded a few times.

"They must have escaped," Shepard concluded. "They were fighting here, and then moved on—but what were they fighting?"

As if in answer to his query, a harsh screeching sound filled his ears, as if all the suffering of hell itself had been released in that one pent up scream.

"What in the hell was that?" Garrus said slowly, lifting his long sniper rifle up to his shoulder as he looked around the room.

"Rachni!" Wrex shouted out, his eyes blazing with a sudden fire as he clenched tightly onto his shotgun and planted his feet heavily in the ground.

"Get into cover!" Shepard shouted. On command, Kaidan and Ashley both ducked for a pillar while Tali and Liara simultaneously dived behind a metal table thrown sideways on the ground. Garrus quickly found a railing to hide himself behind, but Wrex stood still.

"Let's put these things down!" Wrex shouted, putting a leg behind him as a brace as he tightly clenched onto his shotgun at his hip.

Shepard nodded, appreciating the support that the heavy krogan would provide him. Whatever they were up against, it was undeniable that a five hundred pound krogan would come in handy.

A strange creature bent over itself and perched on four legs like a giant shrimp of some sort appeared around the corner, it's lustrous red exoskeleton shining dimly in the light. Its maw opened in another gut-wrenching screech, its dark purple eyes sighting its prey.

Before it was able to finish its battle cry, a shotgun blast took it squarely in center mass, knocking the creature backwards as sickly green fluids began to pour from the wound and onto the sleek metal floor.

As the creature twisted in its dying throes, another three of the creatures appeared from behind the wall, taking no time to slow down before dashing at Shepard and Wrex with surprising speed, barely giving their entire squad enough time to unload a barrage of shots at the creatures before they finally all fell to the ground, lying at Shepard's feet.

Another howl filled the air as six more of the creatures made themselves apparent, these ones larger and with long appendages hanging off of their shoulders with cruel looking pincers at the end.

"Get back!" Wrex shouted suddenly, putting a hand out to push Shepard out of the way as a lob of greenish colored goop filled the space that he had just been occupying. It landed to splat harmlessly against the floor a few feet away, sizzling as the floor blackened and corroded away.

"Acid?" Shepard asked as he quickly observed the way the floor simply melted away. As far as he knew, shields wouldn't—

"Agh!" Shepard yelped as another of the volleys of acid struck him in the left arm, soaking through the seams in his armor and onto his arm, the stinging liquid making his arm feel as if it had been dipped in kerosene and lit on fire. Not that he had ever accidentally lit his own arm on fire before. Except for that time in training.

"Don't let them hit you!" Garrus shouted as he cracked a shot off at the lead rachni soldier, taking one of its eyes out as the lifeless body fell to the ground, ignored by its companions.

Ignoring the constant pain, Shepard lifted his shotgun up and fired a blast into the nearest soldier, staggering the creature but doing far less damage than he had anticipated.

The rachni turned its attention to shotgun, pausing for a moment before one of the long tentacles on its back lashed out, the massive pincer on the end opened wide as it reached to grasp onto Shepard's arm. In a swift movement, Shepard spun the shotgun in his hands, slamming the pincer aside as he ducked down low, pulling the knife out of its holster and slicing it through the tentacle. The inert claw fell to the ground with a loud slam, and the rachni screeched—though whether it was in pain or rage, Shepard didn't know.

Three of the rachni which had been approaching Shepard suddenly were lifted off the ground and tossed into the far wall as Kaidan's biotics threw them away, and another was launched clean out of the facility and somewhere into the snowy abyss as Wrex carried out a similar tactic.

After Wrex was finished with his biotic attack, he charged forward into the midst of the four rachni which were still standing—and recovering from being thrown into a wall—fearlessly throwing a heavy foot into the first one he came upon while he swung his shotgun and slammed it down on top of another, resulting in a crack that Shepard momentarily mistook for Garrus' sniper rifle.

As Wrex shouted his battle cries, a shotgun blast took out the rachni which Shepard had been holding back as Tali bravely ran up to the insect, and a crack from Garrus' rifle slammed through the heads of one of the few remaining creatures.

Liara—forgotten in the conflict—stepped forward, glowing blue with biotic energy as the final remaining rachni—who Wrex had sent flying sidelong with his previous kick—suddenly let out a baleful howl before it split into pieces, acid spilling on the ground amidst the remains.

The whistling of the wind was all that could be heard for a few moments after the battle came to a close.

"Shepard," Tali said with a concerned glance as she approached him, stowing her shotgun back on her side. "You're hurt."

Shepard glanced down at his left arm, which was still stinging, though not as badly as before, where the silvery armor had been blackened and burned in the short instant.

"It's not that bad once you get used to it," Shepard said with a smirk. "In fact, it's nice."

"Bosh'tet," Tali muttered under her breath as she shook her head with some amusement. Shepard raised an eyebrow at the foreign comment—perhaps some form of compliment or amusement?

"We should get moving again," Shepard said as he smiled at Tali reassuringly, rolling his shoulders to ensure that he still had his full range of motion. "Can't let any more of them catch up to us."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Bradley shook his head, purely unconvinced at the petty speech the man standing in front of him was giving.

"No. He's still alive," Bradley said with a frown.

The man merely leaned back in his leather chair, fingers together on top of his lap as he smiled at Bradley.

"He is dead," the man reiterated with a cold certainty.

"He left on a god damned shuttle," Bradley said as he began to nervously pace the room. "You only pissed him off—he'll be back, I'm sure of it," Bradley muttered.

"His shuttle crashed into Theyar," the man said definitively. Bradley stopped his pacing and turned to look at him.

"Crashed?" Bradley said, unbelieving.

"We sent a team to investigate," he said while he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "The shuttle was crashed—it had run out of fuel and the driver had been unable to navigate it to safety. Only pieces of his body were found—spread out over a fifty meter radius."

"It… it was him?" Bradley asked hopefully.

"We identified the body once we found enough pieces to put together," the man said with a wry smile. "Alliance records matched up the fingerprints with a certain MIA Colin Pearson, Warrant Officer second class."

Bradley nodded slowly. "Why in blazes was he attacking me, though?"

"We don't know," the man admitted. "We can only suspect that he had a personal vendetta against our organization… but for what reason is unknown."

Bradley continued pacing around the room. It felt wrong—after seeing the blazing fires in the assassin's eyes—apparently a man named Colin—he couldn't imagine the same man as a heap of flesh scattered across a crash site. There was a strength inside of the man that Bradley hadn't seen very often, but when he had, they had never been on the receiving end of failure. Perhaps titans could die.

"We got this from him," the man said after a long pause, pulling a long revolver out from underneath the desk and placing it onto the wooden desk with a dull thump.

It was the same weapon that the assassin had carried—the massive pistol closer to the size of a large submachine gun rather than a conventional pistol. The barrel was longer than his forearm and there was a loading mechanism on the back of the weapon that was so long outdated that he had never seen anything similar other than in manuals he had pilfered which were dated back to the twentieth century.

"Looks familiar?" the man asked him.

Bradley shook his head. "Looks like an antique."

In a swift movement, the man flipped the pistol off the table and fired a round into a plate which was hanging on the wall along with a series of other elaborate decorations, shattering the dish while the gun retorted with a loud bang.

Bradley jumped slightly, stiffening as the bullet was fired, pointedly reminding himself of who he was dealing with.

"No antique is this powerful," the man said quietly. "Find out how he made it."

Bradley quietly nodded as he cautiously leaned forward and picked the weapon off the table.

"I'll get right to it."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"This must be the way," Shepard said as he pointed towards another doorway at the end of the long hallway which they had made their way to.

The trip hadn't been uneventful—Lilihierax's estimation hadn't been very wrong. After their first encounter, rachni seemed to sprout from every corner and every shadow, the strange, red-shelled creatures charging at their killsquad with no concern for their own lives, as if they had no purpose and were valiantly sacrificing themselves against their oppressors.

Their squad had carried on well to begin with, but after each battle, their breath grew a little bit more ragged, their pace a little bit slower, their aim a little bit off. Kaidan's suit of armor had been blackened from the chest down where he took a glob of acid straight to the chest, and Garrus had a long scrape across his shoulder where one of the rachni had tried to claw onto him, but had been unable to get a hold on his thicker, much more durable armor.

What worried Shepard more than the possibility of any injury he could sustain was the danger that they faced around every corner. They had been keeping up so far, but for how much longer? There was an enemy that was greater than the rachni—mistakes. It was bound to happen, and when it did, what would the price be? If one of the rachni laid a claw on Tali, it would slice through her frail armor and limbs as if they were twigs.

But Shepard wouldn't let that happen. He would keep on fighting.

It was what he was born to do.

"Do you hear that?" Garrus asked, straining to make out some noise beyond the sounds of their metal boots plodding on the ground.

The group stopped for a moment, similarly listening carefully to try and determine the sound. Was it rachni, lying in wait for them to approach to ambush them?

"Combat," Liara said quietly. "I can hear gunfire."

Liara's estimation only grew more firm as they jogged towards the source of the noise a few rooms across, the sound of bullets being fired continuously growing louder with each door they dashed through. At first, they ran carefully, looking into every corner with a rifle to ensure that a trap wasn't imminent, but as they became closer, and the threat of being ambushed grew smaller, they abandoned their caution and ran in a full sprint.

"Left flank! Bolster the left flank! Daniel, heavy fire down center! Gibson, get those generators up and running!"

Shepard's squad burst through the doors, causing the twelve men standing inside to start and turn their rifles to the door in a rapid fashion, until the dark skinned man in the middle of the room began to shout commands again, turning their attention back to the swarms of insect-like rachni charging at them.

"Who the hell are you?" the dark skinned man said in between shouts as he glanced over at Shepard and his assembled squad.

"Captain Belial," Shepard said, not certain if the man who was standing in front of him would prove to be a friend or a foe. "What's going on?"

"The damn rachni are swarming us—they've been at it for days—are you the support that we radioed in for?"

"Yes," Shepard said, hoping that the response would divert any questions about their arrival. "What's the situation?"

The man shouted a few more terse commands at his soldiers, who readily complied and expertly shot down a trio of rachni soldiers who charged at their fortified position.

"I think you can tell," the man said with a grimace. "Captain Ventralis of the ERCS—we were assigned here to push back the rachni, but once we got into the facilities, they closed us off and we weren't able to make it out."

"The way behind us is clear," Shepard said, pointing with a thumb to the passage behind him. "You could take your men and get out of here."

Before Shepard had even finished, Ventralis was already shaking his head somberly. "We can't—especially not if you're the only support we're getting. This is just a small attack—you haven't seen their full on charges. The last one, I lost seven of my men—and I don't know if we're going to last another one."

"Then why don't you leave and get reinforcements?" Shepard asked.

"Because this is important, damnit," Ventralis said with a scowl. "These are damn _rachni_—the aliens that the galaxy bled for hundreds of years ago. We're not going to give up and let them roam free again—we're going to find the source and shut it down, even if it costs us our lives."

Shepard looked into the man's firm eyes, silently admiring the man's steadfastness even in the face of his certain demise.

"We'll help you push them back," Shepard said as he gestured with his head towards his squad.

"Are you all even properly equipped?" Ventralis said curiously as he looked at Tali and Liara—both woefully unprotected compared to the soldiers bunkered down in their heavy suits of combat armor.

"We've killed more than thirty five of the damn bugs already," Wrex said, stepping forward and addressing the captain. "I think I could take a few more."

"We're all prepared for this, Captain," Shepard said as he gave the man a stern nod. "And we're going to push these rachni back to hell."

A small smile made its way onto Ventralis' face as he clapped his hand into Shepard's good hand, clenching it tightly.

"Then let's do this, Belial."

Ventralis turned to his men, who had since stopped firing and were leaning against the metal barricades which protected them, obviously exhausted. The flow of rachni seemed to have momentarily quelled, giving each of the men much needed moments to rest.

"Comrades, we've been through hell and back these last few days, and we've lost some good friends along the way… but we're not finished yet. We can't let their sacrifices be in vain. We must carry on!"

A few tired nods met his speech. Ventralis continued.

"We must stop the rachni—the scourge of the galaxy, the bane of freedom! We are the sole thing standing between the deaths of our wives, our children, our families, and our galaxy. We must stand strong, because we are not alone."

Ventralis gestured to Shepard standing beside him. "We have new hope—these men have seen the same hell that we've seen, and they've lived and breathed it just as we have. Together, with Belial, we shall march forward and cleanse the galaxy of the rachni!"

His men raised their rifles and small, victorious grins appeared on their faces as they cheered, the fire in their eyes rekindled by the small hopes that the arrival of reinforcements had given them.

"It's hope," Ventralis said quietly to Shepard standing at his side. "More important than any bullet, than any rifle or any armor—without hope, we can't stand, we can't fight. It's hope that keeps us on our feet and holds our enemies at bay."

Shepard nodded grimly, beginning to fully take in the tattered remains of the band of soldiers who valiantly held out against the rachni. Each of their suits of armor were dented and scraped and burned away, caked blood spilled down the plating. The metal barricades that they held behind were blackened with the rachni's acid. Empty med-kits were tossed around the room, useless without the healing gels and medication that they once held.

"How long have you been holding out for?" Shepard asked.

"About two days," Ventralis said. "We initially set out with a platoon of thirty soldiers and pushed the rachni back into the labs, but as soon as we made it in, we found that the transport cart which leads up the mountain and into the central labs was damaged. We tried to repair it, but the rachni took us by surprise, killing nine of my men before we could form a proper counter attack."

Ventralis shook his head sadly. "By then, it was too late. They kept attacking us, blocking the way behind so that we couldn't get out. But we can't simply leave now."

"The transport shuttle is damaged?" Shepard asked. "Can it be repaired?"

"We tried," Ventralis said with a defeated shrug. "I lost three of my best engineers in the initial assault, and my only remaining engineer has been awake so long he can't think straight. We fell back here—the shuttle isn't a defensible position. We thought that if we could hold out for a few days longer, we could get support and push forward again."

"Then that's what we're doing," Shepard said with a determined nod.

"I don't think that's an option," Ventralis said as he shook his head sadly. "We still don't have enough soldiers, or even an engineer that can think straight."

"Look over there," Shepard said, gesturing to Tali who was quietly chatting with one of the other soldiers. "That's a quarian—and do you know what quarians are renowned for? Being damned good with machines. And she's damned good with machines."

"Do you think she can get it fixed?" Ventralis asked, fixing Shepard with a hard stare.

"I know she can," Shepard said with a determined nod and a small grin. "I've got three biotics, one sniper, an infiltrator, an engineer, and one hell of a soldier—together, we can do this."

A small smile came to Ventralis' face as he nodded his accord. "Then together we shall fight."

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

With the efficiency that only a military squad could have, Ventralis' men packed their gear in minutes, hefting their rifles and the small amount of supplies they had left on their backs as they prepared to move out.

Despite being battered, bruised, and wounded, the men still smiled at each other as they stepped further into the dark chambers, knowing full well of the dangers that awaited them as they made it to the other side.

Hope truly was an amazing thing—perhaps something he had underestimated in the past. Ventralis was quite a charismatic leader—in some ways, he reminded Shepard a little of Anderson.

"The shuttle is just a few rooms away," Ventralis said as he gestured down the long hallway, lifting his own heavy rifle off his back. Rather than the typical build that most commonly distributed rifles had, the barrel was nearly as wide as Shepard's arm, looking more akin to a shotgun than an assault rifle.

"What kind of damage has the shuttle sustained?" Shepard asked as their group marched down the hallways.

"Its circuits are fried and probably the power supplies too," Ventralis said. "My engineer said that the repairs could take hours to finish—so we need to give them covering fire. Once we've fixed the shuttle, then the way will be clear for whoever comes to take our place."

"A brave sacrifice," Shepard observed.

"Sometimes it takes blood to save blood," Ventralis stated.

They continued to march, the somber silence hanging over their heads like a blanket despite the determined fires that blazed in everyone's eyes. Ventralis' blunt admittance that he had no hopes of even escaping here alive pained Shepard somewhat—to see such a brave soul willingly walking into a deathtrap for the sake of making the galaxy a better place. The same determined gaze was mirrored in everybody's eyes.

"Shields up?" Ventralis asked, likely trying to divert some stress with casual conversation.

"Always," Shepard replied with a determined nod.

"May as well turn them down," Ventralis said with a shrug. "Doesn't stop rachni. Might as well save the power for something else."

Shepard nodded a few times, but didn't move to disable his shields. Whether or not he needed them, they were a security he was used to. The extra security that it would provide him when he came under a hail of gunfire was something he wasn't ready to simply give up.

"We will never surrender!" one of the soldier began to sing loudly, the sole voice in the desolate chambers.

"We will fight until the end!" Another few soldiers joined in the chorus.

"Against foes though thick and thin, we will carry on!"

"To the end we may march and to death we give in, but we will fight—"

A loud, horrid screeching silenced their voices in an instant as their blood froze cold and the soldiers stopped in terror, gripping onto their rifles.

"We will fight until the end!" one of the soldiers shouted, lifting his rifle into the air.

"Against foes through thick and thin, we will carry on!"

The soldiers marched into the room with their rifles at their shoulders, battle song at their lips as they met the swarm of rachni head on, their rifles tearing through the chitinous plating and sending the dead insects sprawling to the ground. A splash of acid splattered through their ranks, but the soldiers continued to sing on through gritted teeth.

"To the shuttle!" Ventralis shouted as he made his began unloading rounds from his heavy rifle into the horde ahead of him, the bullets carving a path through the wide open chamber and towards the large metal cart sitting dead on the railings at the opposite side of the room.

The soldiers ran to the shuttle, all the while firing bullets as they ducked down low in defensive positions, circling around Tali and the other engineer, who quickly bore into the electronics which had been laid bare by their predecessors.

"Defensive positions, now! Daniel, get those shields up!"

One of the solders tossed out a few grey boxes which lit up as a waist-high blue barrier rose up from the ground, stopping anther splatter of acid in the air as the liquid fell to the ground helplessly. Over top the fully-inclusive kinetic barriers, the soldiers continued to unload bullets in an unrelenting hail.

Rachni continued to swarm down from every opening in the room—pouring out of the doors in front of them, out of the vents in the ceiling, and climbing out of service tunnels placed into the floor. More than thirty of the beasts approached them, but they would not relent. Between the hail of bullets that the soldiers sprayed without pause, a powerful biotic surge slammed into the crowd, throwing them into the back wall as Kaidan grinned with satisfaction at his successful attack. Wrex roared a guttural, animal-like roar, and procured an incendiary grenade from somewhere within his armor which he threw into the disoriented horde, lighting them on fire and turning them into nothing more than smoldering ashes within moments.

But even beyond that hail of bullets and fire and smoke, the rachni would not relent.

"What's the situation?" Shepard shouted to Tali, barely able to speak over the deafening sounds of gunfire.

"The power distribution matrix was disconnected from the central processing unit! I just have to reconnect them and we'll be able to get it running!"

Shepard nodded a few times, focusing on getting unloading as many bullets as he could from his shotgun before the thing overheated. They had held back the swarm thus far, but for every rachni they shot down, another was ready to take its place, but their stream of bullets couldn't last forever. The soldiers paused on occasion, allowing their burning hot rifles to let out gouts of steaming air. Kaidan visibly tired, the constant biotic attacks taking a toll, and even Wrex seemed to be losing his unquenchable enthusiasm for killing the insect-like creatures as his battle cries grew less frequent, and so did the blasts of energy which cleared the way momentarily.

"Keep fighting!" Shepard shouted. "We cannot give in!"

"We will never surrender!" Ventralis shouted.

Liara stepped beside Kaidan, and with a serene expression on her face, she extended a hand and sent a wave of energy pulsing through the piled up bodies and rachni soldiers, slamming them all heavily into the back wall with a loud retort.

Nearly half the soldiers lowered their rifle in the momentary pause, giving their rifles much needed time to vent their heat.

A strange looking rachni crawled out of one of the vents, this one a little bit smaller than the rest, but with a strange bluish tint to its red carapace. It darted forward quickly, considerably faster than its brethren—but the combined gunfire of the remaining soldiers wasn't enough to take it down. The soldiers who were venting their rifles quickly lifted them back into position, but until the venting cycle completed, they were useless.

A fatal mistake.

The rachni jumped past the low shields and into the midst of the clustered soldiers, screeching one final, horrible scream before the creature suddenly exploded, sending horrible burning acid into Shepard's face and armor as he fell to the ground, trying to wipe away the liquid which felt as if it were melting his skin.

Shepard's hearing came back to him first—the sounds of pained screams and horrible cries surrounded him on all sides. Pushing his way to his feet, he tried to wrench his eyes open, but his vision came in spots and blurs. All around him, soldiers lied on the ground, all of them coated in acid, and many of them with limbs brutally torn away and chunks of bleeding flesh ripped from their bodies and flung across the room in the explosion.

"Damnit!" Shepard heard Ventralis shouting from down on the ground, his armor blown wide open by the force of the explosion and leaving a bloody gape on his chest where the torn skin poured red blood like a flowing stream.

"The shields," Ventralis said, gritting his teeth.

Terror suddenly filled Shepard's mind, blocking out all of his other thoughts as he realized how much damage Ventralis' men had sustained. Ventralis had been wearing a thick suit of combat armor. Tali had only been wearing…

"Tali!" Shepard shouted out—the first word that came through his lips, merely a dry, raspy scream.

Garrus was behind him—he had pushed himself off the ground, an angry expression on his face but the constant retort of his loud rifle filling the air. Wrex, barely fazed, continued to roar, unleashing his biotics to push the horde back, all the while firing his shotgun. Kaidan was lifting Ashley off the ground, both coated in acid but unhindered, and Liara's eyes watered in pain, but she still continued to throw off those life-saving biotic pushes.

Shepard's eyes shot back to the shuttle—where Tali's bloody body made Shepard's heart leap into his throat as he suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. Blood poured down her suit in large drops, black burn marks visible all across her suit.

"Tali!" Shepard shouted again, his terror transforming his cry into a baleful howl as he realized how quickly she had been stolen away from him once again.

With a shudder, Tali shook her head and pushed herself to her feet, the blood and remains that had splattered all across Tali from the dead engineer who had been working beside rolling off her suit. She stood back up on her feet, staggering unsteadily, but certainly alive.

Shepard dashed to her side, gently grabbing onto her shoulders as she looked back at him, a stunned look in her eyes.

"I'm alright," Tali said with a quiet nod as she dipped back down and returned to the shuttle's electronics. Shepard's heart slowing down, he nodded once and spun around, his fury channeling through the rhythmic blasts of his shotgun.

"Don't give up," Shepard heard Ventralis shouting from back where he had been, still firing his rifle almost constantly despite the blood which poured down his ruined chest.

Seeing the battered man still fighting brought some small strength back to Shepard—and to his men, the few who were still capable of fighting back similarly picking themselves off the ground and firing rounds into the incoming horde of unrelenting rachni. Despite all their efforts, they were far from finished. Wrex's and Liara's biotic attacks were becoming far less common, and no matter how hard they tried, the rachni simply poured into the room without halt.

The rachni closed in on them—the malevolent tentacles of the insects waving in the air, waiting for the chance to pounce and snatch a helpless victim.

"Aah!" Ashley screamed from behind Shepard, a pincer grasping onto her foot and pulling her legs out from underneath her, causing her to slam heavily onto the floor. The pincer pulled her in, ever closer to the hungry mob that would tear her to shreds in a moment.

A loud crack from Garrus' rifle split the rachni's exoskeleton open, its pincer letting go as Ashley did her best to scrabble away from the grasping insects. Another two loud cracks followed, and another pair of rachni fell to the ground, dead. Garrus' strong, three fingered hand gripped onto hers, pulling her up to her feet.

"Shepard!" Liara shouted out suddenly. Shepard turned to face her, and saw her desperately gesturing towards the shuttle where Tali was still focused on the electronics.

Then Shepard saw Tali's doom, sending his heart leaping back into his throat for a second time.

A pair of rachni soldiers charged towards Tali, their claws outstretched as they reached for her unprotected back. Those claws would tear through her thin suit, slicing her body to shreds, stealing the life from her eyes.

"No!" Shepard shouted unconsciously, the same emotions flashing through his mind that had overpowered him on Erinle, when he had seen Tali struggling under the firm grip of his hand, barely able to breathe. When he had been so helpless to fight back.

Shepard charged forward shouting Tali's name, uncaring of the consequences, letting loose one volley into the rachni's charge, but barely halting the creatures. As one of the rachni's horrible claws reached towards Tali, his knife flashed out before him, slicing the tendons within the tentacle and throwing the useless pincer to the ground beside his discarded shotgun.

Another pincer came flying towards Shepard, slamming into his metal plating and skidding to the side. As the other rachni's claws reached out to grab him, he slashed at the creature with his blade, splitting the pincer down the center.

The two final pincers came flying at him simultaneously from both sides, grasping onto his legs with frightening fury, sliding him away from Tali and further towards the mob of bloodthirsty insects.

But that wasn't what occupied Shepard's thoughts—it was the third rachni soldier, its claws ready to thrust at Tali's vulnerable frame. Tali had her shotgun in her hands, spinning to face the oncoming threat, but Shepard knew firsthand that those bullets wouldn't slow a bloodthirsty rachni.

The rachni's muscles tightened as it prepared to pounce on her vulnerable frame as its pincers hungrily snapped, ready to grasp onto her and end her life. They would slip through her armor, shred her flesh, spill her blood on the floor, and Tali would die.

Because Shepard was powerless to fight back.

But no longer. He couldn't give up. He had to keep fighting. He would never surrender. He would never stay down.

In a flash of motion beyond even Shepard's own comprehension, his blade flicked out like the wicked tongue of a serpent and slipped through the appendages which grasped onto his legs and dragged him away. Ignoring the dead weight of the claws still gripping onto his armor, he rolled forward and jumped onto his feet in one smooth movement, simultaneously entering a dash as he dove forward for the rachni which moved as if it were submerged in syrup, its claws flying through the air ever so slowly.

Shepard dove forward, knowing that he would be too late to prevent the creature from digging its claws into Tali. But he wouldn't let the foul creature live long enough to hurt her any further.

A burst of blue light suddenly flashed, a sphere of light surrounding Tali as the flying claws bounced off the barrier helplessly, bashing at the walls as Liara held her hands out to the side, teeth gritted as she focused her mental strength into holding the walls of the shield.

In an instant afterwards, Shepard slammed into the rachni with all the fury that had been mustered within his being, sinking his blade and fist through the stiff carapace and into the burning, gooey insides of the creature with no regard for the pain that covered his wrist. He drew back his blade and slammed it back into the creature's face repeatedly, ignoring its death cries as he drove the hate of hell into its skull.

"Get in!" Tali shouted, jolting Shepard from his assault on the now-dead insect. Garrus sent off a final loud crack before he jumped into the tram, Kaidan and Ashley quickly following suit. Liara and Wrex both ran in as Tali waved rapidly at Shepard, urging him to hurry the hell up.

Shepard dashed to the door before he stopped and turned around. "Ventralis!" Shepard shouted back at the man, who had unsteadily made his way back to his feet, but was still pumping bullets into the throng.

"It's too late," Ventralis said in a quiet whisper, yet the calm words struck Shepard as though they had been shouted with the fury of a hurricane. Ventralis pulled a grenade out of a pocket in his torn armor and grinned as he held down the button.

"Get in!" Shepard shouted, but even he knew that the man wasn't wrong in his evaluation. There was no turning back from the kinds of wounds that he had sustained.

"To the end we may march and to death we give in, but we will fight until the end," Ventralis whispered as the doors to the shuttle slid shut and the vehicle quickly slid away along the railings, tossing the rachni in the way aside as if they were made of paper.

A loud explosion filled the chamber that they had just left, gouts of fire incinerating the rachni as Ventralis' final sacrifice rang loud in Shepard's ears.

* * *

Hey, everybody. Thanks for all the support, especially from the last chapter, and for continuing to stick with me. With any luck, you won't have all forgotten me.

Now, a word of warning; as I said that I would return, I still don't know if now is the time. I have a few chapters in reserve, though writing has been slow and painful as I try to get back into the groove of things. I don't have the same time I used to, nor the same set of mind, so things have been difficult to say the least.

I've been trying to get into writing where I can, though as of late my thoughts have been to hell and back and mostly preoccupied with things that are sadly more pertinent. Though, I would like to come back. More than you might imagine-writing has become a release of sorts for me. Something that I need, for happiness is fluid, and with the same grace and magnificence with which it rises, it ebbs and flows away from your grasp with ne'er a whisper or rustle before leaving behind an empty spirit.

The curtains have fallen  
The tapestry shredded apart  
There is no starlight  
Behind velvet night

I watched as it fell  
Collapsed to the ground  
Now nothingness is here  
And here is me

EDIT: Eh, I'm being overdramatic. I'm pretty good lately-how about you?


	33. Or Die Trying

**:: Chapter Thirty Three :: **Or Die Trying **::**

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

_In just one breath_

_Your dreams will fade_

_A moment in time_

_For fear to embrace_

_The future is my enemy_

_Long days and endless nights_

_Pain awakes my sleep_

_And ends in a silent barrage of calm_

_Look at me through jaded eyes_

_Forever see the mask I wear_

_Never feel pity for me  
It's the way my life lives_

-Novembers Doom-

§―«≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡»―§

They all sat in silence for many long moments as their shuttle skidded along the metal tracks, slicing through the heavy layers of snow as the wind whistled past the vehicle. Their breathing had finally slowed, their heart rates falling back into normal ranges as they silently observed each other, all wounded, all burned, all pained.

None of them had come out without scars—even Tali's suit was blackened in places from where the acid had struck her, and Liara was battered in places as well. None had escaped the tide of rachni—and particularly none of those who they had left behind.

"Are you all ok?" Shepard finally asked after a long while, looking at each of them in the eye for a few moments while they nodded.

"We're good, sir," Ashley said weakly as she leaned back on the wall of the shuttle and slowly nodded.

"We'll kick them back to hell," Wrex said, his usual gusto faded somewhat—an oddly surreal experience. In the short time that Shepard had known the krogan, quiet wasn't a word he would have ever used to describe him—but there was little else he could use now. Even the krogan's eyes were dull and filled with tiredness despite the battle fury which he had immersed himself in only a short while ago. Perhaps it was a krogan hangover of sorts.

"What about you, Shepard?" Tali asked from beside him, stepping a little bit closer as she turned to examine him. Blood ran down the side of his chest in a steady stream, though it seemed that it had stopped flowing as the dripping had slowed in the last couple of minutes. His shining new armor had been scarred in more places that he had imagined it would be, much of his limbs and good portions of his torso covered in the black acidic burns.

"I'm fine," Shepard said with a slow, perhaps unconvincing nod. Not that he was suffering from any physical pain—he had become used to the dull throbbing of his wounds to the point he barely noticed them any longer, but there was something else that bothered him more than that. But he couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"You sure?" Tali asked as she looked at him, the concern that was evident in her eyes pushing away the veil of darkness which he had felt slowly creeping up on him. For her sake, to alleviate her concerns at least a little bit, Shepard smiled warmly at her and nodded, this time more firmly.

Tali merely stared at Shepard, her posture and eyes unchanging as she watched him, as if she didn't quite buy it. After all, she had spent most of her life speaking to people who she couldn't see beyond body language and eyes—Shepard wouldn't have been surprised to learn she was far more perceptive that he was.

Their shuttle came to a stop as the doors on the side slid open, the blackened metal screeching as it slid away. They all stepped out uneasily, their hands at their weapons and surveying the eerie silence.

"Where are they?" Garrus asked, echoing the thoughts that they all most likely had in their mind.

"They might not have had the rachni up here," Kaidan reasoned. "They wouldn't have been able to make it here without the shuttle—we had to pass over the ravine between the two peaks to make it here."

"Maybe," Shepard said with a small shrug. "But stay on your guard—we still don't know if we're going to find more geth here."

They quietly continued through the desolate hallways, the sound of their metal boots clanging against the floor echoing across the many hallways and rooms, making it sound as if they were surrounded by a legion of soldiers storming towards them.

"Shepard, that's the maintenance lab," Kaidan said as he pointed towards another one of the branching hallways. "Maybe we can find schematics for the layout of this place inside there?"

Shepard gave a shrug and continued down the hallway that Kaidan had pointed out, coming to a dimly lit room filled with a couple of terminals at the end of the room and a couple of open boxes thrown about the room, as if the previous occupants had left in a hurry.

"Tali, see if you can learn anything from those terminals," Shepard said.

Tali headed over to the terminal and tapped on it a few times before she froze, slowly shaking her head.

"Keelah, Shepard…" Tali said after a minute, turning to glance at him for a moment. "They have a rachni _queen_."

"A _queen_?" Shepard said breathlessly. "How did they get a queen?"

"How did they even get _any_ rachni?" Kaidan asked. "I thought they went extinct a thousand years ago!"

"Sure as hell they did," Wrex grumbled under his breath.

"Where's the queen at?" Shepard asked. "Something makes me think that this queen and Saren have more to do with each other than it seems."

"An army, maybe?" Kaidan offered.

"Doesn't seem like it's following orders too well," Garrus said with a snort.

"Unless they're trying to sow havoc," Kaidan said.

"Do you know where the queen is being kept, Tali?" Shepard asked more firmly as he stepped beside her.

"Uhm… it's in… the engineering bay," Tali said. "We can get to it if we keep going the way we were going."

Shepard's omni-tool lit up for a moment as a holographic map lit up above his wrist.

"We've just got to keep going down that hallway, and then it's just down in that room over there," Tali said, gesturing to one of the rooms on the farthest edges of the map.

"Then we know what we need to do," Shepard said with a nod. "Is there anything else useful on that terminal?"

Tali silently shook her head, and their squad moved out. They stepped back down the hallway they had come from and hung a right, heading down through a decontamination chamber—which stopped them like an airlock and ran a beam of light over top of them—and then down another hallway.

"You think they'd use less hallways," Garrus muttered as they stepped through another one.

"We're almost there," Tali assured him. At the end of the hallway, the door slid open without any hindrance, and they stepped into a wide open room with a couple of lockers and crates placed neatly against the walls. A few terminals were on the sides of the room, as well as a glass wall that opened up to another room that Shepard couldn't make out in the darkness.

A loud crack scared them all to alertness as a bullet seared down from the ceiling and slammed into Shepard's chest, his shields readily absorbing most of the damage.

"Hoppers!" Tali shouted out as she slid to the ground, pulling her shotgun off her back while she simultaneously lifted her omni-tool up into the air and sent a pair of the odd machines falling to the ground.

"Left flank!" Kaidan shouted, noticing the three platforms which had been idly standing in the shadows of the corner of the room, each carrying assault rifles in their hand.

With a loud crack, Garrus took down the first geth, throwing the petty machine into the back wall with his large rifle, and with a small flash Kaidan threw them both back onto the ground where Wrex readily disposed of them.

Another flash of Tali's omni-tool and another trio of geth hoppers simply fell from the ceiling, shattering as they came to land on the steel floors.

"That's all of them," Tali finally said after the room was quiet for a moment.

"I think this means we're in the right place," Kaidan said with a quiet chuckle.

Tali made her way over to the door on the far side of the room, stopping in front of it.

"Locked," Tali said with a slight frown. "The rest weren't locked."

"Then looks like we're in the right place," Kaidan said again with a smirk.

Shepard patiently waited for a few minutes as Tali alternated presses on her omni-tool and the door, but then Tali slowly shook her head and stepped back from the door.

"I… can't get it open," Tali said as she sighed quietly. "There are safeguards in place to keep the facility in lockdown… we can't override them without a code or until this room has been properly purged."

"Isn't this room already clean?" Shepard asked as he glanced around for any more rachni.

"The system won't believe you," Tali said with a shrug.

"How do you think we can activate the purge?"

Tali paused for a moment with a pensive expression. "Maybe… if we can find a connection to the security systems."

"Like what we did with the mainframe?"

Tali nodded silently. "Like the mainframe. Then I'd be able to trick the system into thinking that the facility was clean."

Shepard put a hand to his chin. "Which direction should we go, then?" he asked, nodding his head to the doors on both sides of the room.

Tali shrugged helplessly. "I… don't know," she said as she looked down at her feet.

"Then we'll guess," Shepard said with a shrug as he turned towards the door on his left. He extended his hand to the door mechanism and it easily slid open, revealing another—

"Hallways, again," Garrus grumbled.

They continued through the hallway, and at the end of the room was a small room with a glass window displaying a large mechanism hanging from the ceiling that Shepard wasn't familiar with.

"Generator," Tali said the instant she saw the machinery.

"Do you think you can get a connection here?" Shepard asked as he gestured towards the terminal at the back of the room.

"I'll try," Tali said quietly as she stepped forward.

"If there _is_ a rachni queen," Garrus began to say, "How are we going to stop it?"

"With bullets," Wrex said with a chuckle. "You turians are dumb."

"Tell me about it," Ashley said with a wry grin.

"Well, it sure wasn't a krogan who pulled your ass out of the fire," Garrus said in mock anger.

"The power's down," Tali said as she tapped on the lifeless terminal a few times, but it refused to come to life. "The whole system must be down—that's why the lights are so dim, it's only emergency power."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"It would be," Tali said. "But I think I can just bypass this terminal…"

Tali crouched down and slid the side panel off the terminal and attached something similar to the bug that she had given Shepard earlier inside of the machine, and then she stood back up and continued tapping on her omni-tool. With a satisfied smile that was evident even through the purple mask, the lights began to glow a bit brighter and the generator engaged with a loud hum.

"Power's on," Tali said.

"Good work, Tali," Shepard said with a warm smile on his face as he regarded the proud engineer.

So proud, yet covered in blood. The smile faded away from Shepard's face as he scanned Tali's suit, the dried blood covering her suit that did not slow her exuberance. _Perhaps she has become used to blood,_ Shepard thought, though he no longer could tell whether that was even good or bad.

"Something wrong?" Tali asked, glancing over at Shepard.

"No, not at all," Shepard said, quickly shaking himself out of his stupor. He didn't have time for those kinds of thoughts. "Can you unlock the main door?"

"Already done," Tali said. "I tricked the system into thinking that all the appropriate security overrides have already taken place," she explained as if it were something as simple as eating or breathing. But perhaps for Tali, engineering was simpler than eating or breathing.

They quietly made their way back to the previous room, their hands on their weapons as they waited in hushed anticipation for the door to open.

With a loud buzz, the door slowly slid open, revealing a grand chamber filled with floating catwalks above the low floor below them, but most terrifying of all was the giant rachni calmly sitting inside of the glass vessel in the center of the room.

"The queen," Shepard said with a slow shake of his head. It was unlike the other rachni that they had encountered—rather than having a red carapace like all the other rachni which they had encountered up to this point, it was hued purple and had a multitude of eyes which appeared to glow.

"Commander Shepard," someone called out—a voice that was clearly feminine, but twisted with cruelty and a lack of compassion that chilled even Shepard's blood.

An asari made herself visible from behind a tall terminal that jutted out beside the glass chamber which held the rachni queen in place. She was tall and her skin was colored a sickly pale blue, with a strange helmet atop her head which had spires protruding from the sides. Her dark eyes spoke of no compassion, of a soul filled with utter emptiness and an uncaring of life.

It was odd how familiar those eyes looked.

"Mother," Liara said breathlessly beside him, her mouth agape as she stared at the cruel woman. For a brief moment, Shepard felt a pang of regret for the asari—even despite the falsehoods that Shepard believed he had seen in her, there was no denying that seeing your own mother in a twisted visage such as the one portrayed to her was harrowing.

Benezia paid no heed to her dumbfounded daughter, instead slowly stepping forward to stand meters away from Shepard and his squad, all with their weapons ready in hand, but the woman made no attempt to attack or even show any aggression.

"What are you doing here?" Shepard finally asked, stepping forward, their initial task coming back to the forefront of his mind. To determine Saren's plans, and then to convince Benezia to leave Saren.

But that last part wasn't going to happen.

"Fulfilling destiny," Benezia said as she narrowed her eyes cruelly. "It has already been done. There is no stopping Sovereign's rise—you are too late, human."

"Mother," Liara said again, stepping forward.

Benezia calmly transferred her icy gaze from Shepard and onto her daughter, her expression unrelenting as she stared at Liara, who looked as if she were about to let loose a torrent of tears.

"Foolish girl," Benezia said with spite in her voice. "You were given a single chance to join Saren's cause—you would have had riches and security beyond your childhood dreams, yet you turned that down—and for what?"

Saren had offered to work with Liara? Yet, when they found her on Therum, she had been under attack, stuck within her Prothean sphere…

She had refused.

"Because I don't know you anymore," Liara said, not with contempt or anger, but a simple sorrow that even Shepard couldn't deny.

Benezia laughed cruelly, her lips curving in an evil smile as she slowly raised a hand in front of her. Liara's hand snapped to her pistol at her side as she shouted "Watch out!"

Liara's warning proved to be far too little, far too late. In an instant, Benezia's pent up biotic energy blasted into them as the room began to spin around, everything becoming an indistinguishable blur, the floor suddenly turning into a ceiling, and the metal railings quickly dashing away from him as he reached out for them helplessly. Shepard slipped past the railings with the tip of his fingers before he felt himself propelled at an unnatural speed before he slammed onto the hard metal floor—or was it the wall?—shoving the air out of his lungs, along with a gout of blood.

Shepard pushed himself back up, the room reorienting as he balanced himself. He quickly looked around, seeing his companions all in similar situations, but each of them similarly pulling themselves up off the ground with fire in their eyes.

A pair of asari gently floated down—their appearance like magic—as they flung their hands out and sent another blast of biotic energy which slammed them all into the far wall, albeit not as heavily. Wrex was the first to recover—who, with his considerable mass, was barely fazed by the attack, as he charged forward with a supernatural burst of speed. His shotgun appeared in his hands as he neared the two asari, a blast harmlessly bouncing off the shields of one woman before he barreled into her, falling into a heap on the ground.

Without any emotion on her face, the other asari lifted a hand and sent Wrex flying back into a wall, this time with a much more pronounced thump as the massive krogan left a considerable dent before he rolled away from the wall and landed on the floor in a limp, unconscious heap.

All the while, Garrus had quickly recovered and had lifted his rifle up to his eye, sending a shot flying at the asari who wasn't crushed into the ground, knocking her off balance but unable to punch through the shields. A paired up burst of harmonic assault rifle shots slammed into her, her shields easily absorbing the first few shots but falling underneath Kaidan and Ashley's combined assault.

The two asari soldiers out of the way, Shepard turned his attention back to the catwalks high above him, seeing Benezia's evil visage staring down at them. Shepard lifted his shotgun and fired a blast—which would be useless at this range—as he looked around for some way to get up to her. There was a ladder on the opposite side of the room—but how was he going to get up without being killed?

Shepard wasn't given enough time to contemplate his next move as the floor shook beneath him, the vibrations growing stronger by the second until he was flung across the room, accelerating rapidly. Learning from his last experience, Shepard rolled up into as tight of a ball as he could manage with his thick armor, landing with his back rather than his face.

Getting back on his feet much quicker this time, Shepard spun around and brought his shotgun to the ready as he prepared to flip on his cloaking module and make the mad dash to Benezia before she could do any more damage. Garrus had joined Wrex in unconsciousness, and Ashley and Kaidan were both in a groaning heap on the ground. Liara and Tali had gotten to their feet faster than even Shepard had—perhaps their more nimble stature gave them an innate defense against Benezia's relentless biotics.

The time Shepard spent contemplating his next move was cut short, however, as he felt the similar feelings of vertigo and weightlessness, but this time, instead of feeling himself accelerating rapidly until he was flung into a wall, the floor lifted away from him as he rose in the air to float helplessly in front of Benezia.

"It's too late," Benezia said with a wicked smile as she clenched her fist shut. In a single moment, Shepard felt a pain greater than that of every single injury that he had ever felt combined, as if he was being pulled apart atom by atom, muscles from bones, skin from flesh, bones from marrow. Shepard's eyes shut as he felt himself flickering out of consciousness, but he forced himself back into the pain, steering away from the cold embrace of painless death.

Shepard swung his hand around to level his shotgun at Benezia, but suddenly he found that the weapon was no longer there, but instead, it was falling to the ground as his hands were unable to grasp onto the handle any longer. Shepard tried to grasp onto the pistol at his side, but as soon as he pulled it from the clasps on his hip, the weapon fell along with his shotgun.

He had nothing to defend himself with.

"Goodbye, Commander," Benezia said simply as she clenched her outstretched hand, suddenly closing off his chest as if a thousand pound weight had been hefted atop him, unable to draw air through his lips.

Was this what Tali had felt like? Helpless to her own demise? Unable to even draw breath in her final moments?

Perhaps he deserved this.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Shepard!" Tali shouted at the man floating helplessly in the air nearly fifteen meters above her, as if the strength of her voice could have freed him. Blood dripped from the soldier at an alarming rate, and every time Benezia's hands twisted or clenched a little bit tighter, Tali could see the waves of biotic energy rolling over him and squeezing a little bit tighter with each passing moment.

Tali desperately looked around her—Ashley lied on the ground, slowly moving but barely conscious, Kaidan in a similar position. Liara was pulling herself off the ground, but she didn't have any weapons strong enough. Even Wrex and Garrus were both dreadfully still—Tali could only hope that the two soldiers were merely unconscious. But Shepard couldn't wait until they awoke—he was going to be dead in minutes if they couldn't do anything about it.

There was a ladder she could use to climb back up—but that would take too long, and Benezia would only throw her down onto the ground again. Was there some way she could overload her shields?

No, that wasn't going to work either—it wouldn't release her hold on Shepard, and she was too far away for her shotgun to do any damage.

She bent down and quickly picked up Garrus' long rifle, thrown to the ground in the fall, and lifted it up to her eyes like she had seen him do so many times. Sniper rifles weren't part of her training, but damnit, she had to try something!

She looked through the scope and found Benezia, trying to do her best to center the cross onto the woman's face but barely able to keep her unsteady hands from shaking. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, trying to hold steady, and trying to ignore the fact that she was firing a potentially lethal shot at Liara's mother.

But it had to be done.

Tali pulled the trigger as Garrus' rifle cracked, so much louder when it was right beside her head, the recoil sending the rifle flying out of her hands and onto the ground behind her.

But for a brief moment, Benezia's concentration flickered as the high speed round flew into her chest, easily deflected by her biotic barriers but with enough force behind it that it threw her off balance, causing her to careen backwards for a moment.

A moment long enough to release Shepard, sending him falling to the ground once again.

Tali dashed forward, no plan in her mind as Shepard fell to the ground once again, Tali outstretching her arms in an attempt to catch him.

A flash of biotic energy pulsed from beside her and Shepard quickly slowed down, his slowly moving—but still almost three hundred pound—frame landed in her arms, the massive man ignoring her feeble attempts at carrying him and falling to the ground despite her best efforts.

Tali glanced over at Liara for a moment, her hands extended as she released Shepard on the ground, and gave her a thankful nod as she pulled the shotgun from her back.

As if on cue, a trio of geth soldiers simply jumped down from the catwalks above, landing with a resounding thump on the metal floors with their rifles already out and firing at Tali and Liara. Diving low to avoid their fire, Tali activated her omni-tool and sent a pulse flying towards them which disabled their internal shield generators and momentarily froze them in their tracks.

Liara sent the machines flying backwards into the wall, giving Tali time to dash forward and shove her shotgun into the machine's optics, blowing them out with an easy pull of her trigger.

Kaidan and Ashley both made their way to their feet, grabbing their rifles which they had lost in the chaos.

"Benezia!" Tali shouted, pointing up at the asari still standing stiffly above them.

Kaidan swung an arm and sent a blast of energy flying towards the woman, but she merely extended a hand and a blue barrier—similar to the one that Liara had made earlier—and the blast was deflected without Benezia's cruel expression changing.

Benezia jumped over top the railing and floated herself down to the ground, flaring with blue biotic energy as she readily lowered herself. Ashley and Kaidan both unleashed a volley of bullets towards her, but her shields and the purple tinged biotic barrier which surrounded her held strong against the hail of bullets. She raised a hand and swung it to the side effortlessly, tossing Ashley and Kaidan both onto the ground, their rifles flying away from them.

Liara stepped forward, putting one leg out ahead of her as she extended both of her hands as she sent a blast flying towards her mother, but Benezia merely smiled and put her hand in front of her, the blast simply deflecting off her hand.

Benezia stepped over top of Shepard's body and towards Liara, standing at the back of the room. Liara threw out another biotic burst, supplemented with a few bullets from her pistol, but with a clench of her hand, Benezia threw the pistol from Liara's hand and sent it across the room beside the scrabbling figures of Kaidan and Ashley. With another wave of her hand, Ashley and Kaidan were both sent flying into the wall brutally, but this time, they did not stand back up.

"Stop this, mother!" Liara shouted as she sent off yet another biotic blast, this time with ragged breath and evident exhaustion in her limbs. With the same ease, Benezia blocked it and countered with a clench of her fists, lifting Liara into the air and slamming her against the wall, holding her in place.

All this time, Tali had been silently observing the conflict as she desperately linked into Benezia's systems, silently disabling her shields as she continued to fight. But now was the time for action. Tali deftly slipped the shotgun from her back once again and charged towards Benezia, occupied with Liara who she held on the wall. Getting as close as she would dare to get to Benezia, Tali raised her shotgun and pointed it at Benezia's hip, hoping to disable rather than kill.

She fired her shotgun, fully expecting blue blood to splatter across the floor, but to her surprise, Benezia merely flickered with energy briefly before she calmly turned to face Tali, dropping Liara onto the floor where she clenched onto her chest and took a few ragged breaths.

"That's twice you've interrupted me," Benezia said with a coldness that froze Tali in her tracks.

Benezia lifted a hand, pulling Tali off the ground as she felt her throat tighten, as she felt the air getting pushed out of her chest.

It was like an invisible hand had clasped around her throat, choking the life from her as she already began to feel her lungs screaming for air, her vision already beginning to flicker.

Tali's fingers desperately grasped at her hip, trying to find her shotgun, but her attempts were futile. There was no escaping.

They were all going to die.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Shepard took a few breaths through his pained chest, the simple act of breathing sending horrible spikes of burning pain searing through his whole body. He had blacked out for a moment—but how long? His vision was blurry—he could barely make anything out beyond simple grey and black.

Shepard pushed himself to his feet, some unknown instinct prodding him along. He turned to face the asari in black at the other side of the room, whose name had vanished from his mind. Her hand was outstretched, though Shepard did not know what she focused on.

Some unknown force pushed Shepard forward, his feet dragging along the ground as he walked towards the asari, reaching down to grab the blade at his leg.

Shepard tripped over a rifle on the ground—Garrus' rifle. The turian lied unconscious—or perhaps dead—on the other side of the room, near Wrex's similarly unmoving body. The bright pink spot of Ashley's armor was in the other corner, and Shepard could make out Kaidan's armor lying beside it as well.

Shepard slowly made his way closer to Benezia, trying to see what she was focused on. Liara lied on the ground as well, alive but sprawled out across in the floor in such a way that Shepard could instantly tell she was no longer part of the battle.

And who was left? There was someone missing—the empty feeling inside of Shepard told him that well enough.

But something else told Shepard that it didn't matter. There was one thing he had to accomplish—killing the asari that stood in front of him.

"Tali," Shepard mumbled, tripping slightly as his vision began to clear.

Benezia. That was who he had to kill.

Tali's familiar purple frame was squeezed up against the wall, Benezia's biotics holding her in place as the very life was squeezed from her frail figure. Everything felt so surreal, as if Shepard was merely observing a painting rather than experiencing the events.

"Tali," Shepard said again, this time more loudly, with more vigor. She was in danger—she was dying. She was going to die.

Shepard stepped closer to Benezia, close enough to tap on her shoulder if he so pleased.

"Let go of Tali," Shepard mumbled as Benezia turned her head to face Shepard, still holding onto Tali.

With a flash of light, Shepard's blade struck out in front of him and sliced through Benezia's unmarred face, sending a splatter of blue blood across the floor as she reeled back in pain, falling onto the ground in surprise.

Shepard jumped on top of her, gaining momentum as he thrust the knife into her stomach, the blade solidly connecting and sliding through her flesh before she clenched her fist and sent Shepard flying into the air, landing heavily on his back as his knife flew somewhere beyond his grasp.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shepard saw a fleeting flash of purple.

"It's too late, Shepard," Benezia said against as she stood up, holding a hand across the gash in her stomach to keep the blood from flowing out. She stepped towards Shepard, holding his blade in her hands, drenched in blue blood as she limped towards him with a caustic smile on her face.

She lifted Shepard up off the ground with her biotics, holding him tightly in a standing position as she placed the knife into his chest, slowly pressing it through the thick steel, just as Shepard had done to his own foes so many times.

Another flash of purple.

"Goodbye, Shepard."

Tali stood behind Benezia with her shotgun in her hands, and she shoved it into the small of Benezia's back. With a loud retort, the bullets seared through Benezia's spine, sending a torrent of blood flying out the gash on her stomach and sending her falling to her knees, helpless to the insufferable pain which wracked her body.

"Mother," Liara said breathlessly as she stumbled over to her bleeding mother, lying on the ground.

"Liara…" Benezia whispered quietly, a trail of blue blood pouring down her chin as she slowly turned and faced her daughter, eyes that were filled with a compassion and a caring that seemed to mock the cruelty and hate that embodied them only minutes ago.

"You must stop Saren…" Benezia whispered to her daughter as she lifted a shaking hand and gently placed it on Liara's shoulder. "He's… searching… for… the Conduit…"

"The Conduit?" Shepard asked, having lifted himself on the ground and crouched beside Benezia's body.

"Shepard, she needs medi-gel!" Liara shouted, staring at Shepard in a half-crazy desperation as moisture began to form around her crystalline blue eyes.

Shepard bit his lower lip as he realized that it was far too late for Benezia—she would have already suffered too much internal damage—and at this rate, she had already lost too much blood.

"No, my daughter," Benezia whispered, a serene expression on her face. "My time has passed… I was not strong enough."

"No, mother…" Liara whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek and dripping onto her mother's torn frame.

"Saren… is too strong… his every will tears me to shreds until I comply… the indoctrination cannot be stopped…"

"What are you talking about?" Liara said desperately, gently shaking her mother. "It's not too late—there are doctors! And we have medi-gel!"

"You cannot stop indoctrination," Benezia said calmly. "Sovereign is unstoppable—its power is too vast to even comprehend… but you must stop Saren."

"What is the Conduit?" Shepard asked, knowing that the woman would not last much longer.

"It… is located past the Mu relay," Benezia said as if she were reminiscing about a distant memory. "Its location was known to the rachni queen… I determined the location and sent the coordinates to Saren only moments ago…"

"What does Saren want with the Conduit?" Shepard asked again, this time more insistently.

"He will use it… to… to…" Benezia coughed gently a few times, small splatters of blood leaving her mouth as her chest heaved to keep her alive. "To… bring back the Reapers…"

"Mother, no…" Liara said quietly, leaning in closer to her mother.

"Stand strong, my daughter…" Benezia said once final time as she stared at her daughter's tear-filled eyes, taking one last slow deep breath as a serene expression donned her face, devoid of the suffering that tormented her frame.

Liara bent down and began to sob, pushing her face into her mother's chest as the tears freely flowed from her eyes. Tali put a gentle hand on Liara's shoulder, the somber expression visible in her silvery eyes.

Shepard slowly stood up, quietly sighing. So much pain—all because of Saren.

The Conduit—that was what Saren was looking for. But what was it? And Reapers? And Sovereign? And indoctrination? What did it all even mean?

Shepard glanced down at Liara, not wanting to interrupt her mourning. She had lost someone important to her today—there was no denying that sorrow. Of the few empathies that Shepard carried, loss was the one which he had the most experience.

Four of his squadmates lied unconscious—or maybe even dead—on the ground in front of him, Liara's mother had been gutted and blown apart in front of her, and nobody had come out without new wounds marring their skin.

But it was a price that had to be paid.

"Shepard… the queen," Tali said, jarring him from his thoughts. Shepard glanced at the catwalks above them, the massive glass chamber containing the equally massive rachni queen hanging preciously.

The rachni queen—the very creature that had been the cause of the chaos that had been wracking Peak Fifteen, the last of the species that the galaxy had fought against and suffered against thousands of years ago.

A flicker of rage passed through Shepard's body as he shuddered unconsciously.

It was because of that creature that they had been put through everything they went through. Because of it, Ventralis had been forced to sacrifice himself. Because of it, the people who were closest to him were all wounded. Because of it, Saren's plans would come to fruition.

"It needs to die," Shepard said as he turned and made his way to the ladder, his spine and shoulders straightening as he realized what he needed to do. "There has to be some kind of countermeasure in place—some way that we can kill it before it gets free. Maybe we can use some kind of environmental control—"

"Aah!" Liara suddenly yelped from behind them as Benezia pushed herself to her feet, causing Liara to slowly back away from her with a look of terror in her eyes.

"Mother?" Liara said quietly, stepping towards Benezia, who had an empty look in her wide open eyes and waved from side to side as she stood uncertainly. The blood had stopped flowing from her open wounds, yet she still stood.

"This one… is our… voice…" Benezia said haltingly, in a manner that seemed to reverberate and echo within Shepard's minds. Liara stared at the figure of her mother with her eyes wide in terror, likely similarly affected by the odd change.

"Benezia?" Shepard asked, putting a hand onto the shotgun at his side.

"This vessel… no longer serves… the bitter songs… we are… the rachni…"

Shepard flicked his gaze towards the glass pod above them, seeing the rachni, still motionless as before.

"How are you speaking through her?" Tali asked with an edge of caution to her voice as she slowly approached Benezia's unstable figure.

"We sing the songs that all hear… this one is weak… and empty… we play the music and this one responds."

"Why did you attack us?" Shepard asked, directing his question more to the glass tank than to Benezia's frame.

"We did not," Benezia said, steadying herself in some moment of strength. "Our children… were stolen… they did not hear the colors of our song… they were lost."

"Stolen? You weren't controlling them?"

"The sour notes… tainted our children… made the melody grey… made the songs tasteless. Will you release us?"

Shepard glanced over at Tali and Liara for a moment, and then back to the rachni queen.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You cannot," Benezia said simply. "We will return… to our homes to sing anew… we will not fight… the songs of death are bitter."

Shepard glanced over at Tali, trying to gauge what she was thinking, but it was difficult to tell when she wouldn't look at him.

"Or will you destroy us?" Benezia asked plaintively. "There is acid… that will quell our song forever."

Shepard heard a shark intake of breath from Tali before Shepard shook his head.

"No—we can't do this," Shepard said, stepping forward and climbing up the ladder.

"You're going to let her go?" Tali asked with a tone that he couldn't determine between concern or satisfaction.

"We can't let her live," Shepard said as he made it to the top of the ladder. "The last time that the rachni went free, they killed millions of people until they were stopped."

"They were different!" Tali shouted after him, quickly scrabbling up the ladder. "She said she'll go in peace!"

"I don't believe her," Shepard stated without remorse. "Ventralis sacrificed his life to give us a chance to stop the rachni—and I'm not going to waste that chance!"

"Shepard, she's done nothing wrong!" Tali pleaded as she came to stand beside him. "Binary Helix separated the rachni we fought from the queen—she had no control of them!"

"Tali, she can't be released! If she's let go, she'll wreak havoc! She'll breed more rachni and murder anyone she comes across! How can we trust her? She'll lose control and destroy us all again, if the geth weren't bad enough! We have to destroy—"

Shepard stopped suddenly, the anger vanishing from his face as he leaned over top of the control panel. One press of a button and the rachni would be permanently wiped from the face of the galaxy.

Shepard looked over at Tali, her eyes staring through Shepard like a light in the dark. They were eyes that reminded Shepard of everything—of Therum, of Saleon, of Erinle—and eyes that warned him of the monster that lurked inside of him.

Shepard could feel the rumbling within him, as if it were waiting in hushed anticipation, waiting for the chance to lash out and strike. It had always been there—even after the great strides he had taken…

Freedom was a lie.

"You're right," Shepard whispered weakly. His mind began to clear, the rashness and anger fading away as he realized how stupid and naïve he had been. "We can't kill her." There were far more things at play.

Shepard silently pressed another button and the hatch on the back of the glass pod slid open silently.

_We will keep our promise._

The rachni queen slid backwards without hesitation, disappearing out of the hatch and off into the Noveria night.

Shepard leaned forward over the control panel, resting his elbows on the metal surface and his head in his hands. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

No words needed to be spoken.

* * *

Hi, everyone-for those of you who are still with me, and followed me along the journey that I embarked on when I started writing this.

First, an apology. I'm sorry that I've stopped writing. To cut something like this-two hundred thousand words into the making-off completely, to say that it will have no further chapters or conclusion is something that pains me most likely just as badly as those who want to see and end to the tale.

But everything that I've done has been an unbelievable journey. Taking on a task like this-writing a novel... it's been amazing. There have been tough time and good times, and through it all it's been a way for me to cope with what I now realize was a crippling case of loneliness and emptiness that I didn't know how else to deal with. Perhaps it's true that the most creative people are the ones who are broken themselves. And through it all, you guys have been there to stand by me. I've always loved having a connection to a community, and for those of you still around, I'm glad to have had you through it all.

I promised a while ago (though maybe not so long to a newer reader) that I would continue with the story, in a time where I was less busy and when I could dedicate the same amount of time to writing as I once did... but that never happened. I never realized how much I had changed, and how I couldn't write as I had before. I've tried to pick up the pen (metaphorically) a few times, but every time I do, I can't carry on in the way that I used to-something is different, and nothing flows together as it once did. I don't have the room to contemplate and meticulously plan out every detail and event as I used to-and that's something that would crush and destroy what I've already written (hah, as if there were no problems to begin with!). What I mean to say is that I can't connect to my own writing any longer-even on a base emotional level, I can't pretend to be Shepard. I can't miss Garrus and Wrex, I can't cast hate onto the Council, and I can't love Tali. I've moved past it all-and I don't think I have a ticket back.

I'm sorry, again, to be cutting everything off like this. To all of you who have supported me, thank you for everything. Without you all, I never would have been able to get as far as I did-and if I hadn't, I don't know where I would be right now. Without the small pride that writing this tale gave me, I don't think I would have been able to step out of the gloom and depression like I did.

And so, I bid thee all farewell. Will I return? I don't know if I will. Maybe not to the Painted Grey. But, perhaps someday, I shall make my return to something anew.

_Lost in the desolation of love_  
_The passions we reap and sow_  
_Lost in the desolation of life_  
_This path that we walk. . ._  
_Lost in the desolation of love_  
_The sorrows we reap and sow_  
_Lost in the desolation of life_  
_The path that we walk. . ._

_But let it not haunt you as it once haunted me._

* * *

_Want to chat with me? Send me an email (evangj _at_ hotmail. com), or hit me up on Steam (Zalgroth) or even Skype (zalgroth-). Can't guarantee you a timely response through Steam or Skype, but I'll do my best. I'd love to hear from you guys either way!_


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